#somehow even though it seems slightly OOC I like it!

[jals-stuff]

Some Rayne brainrot...

this is some stupid (and a bit horny??? no? yes? i don't know) stuff that went through my mind last night

MDNI PLEASE! this spawned in my head, no context

warnings: female reader, rayne is ooc and pervy, he is staring, dubcon (bit steamy at the end), bit of swearing, bit of horniness, mentions of boobies and peen...

i am very sorry, i wrote this with 0 hours of sleep. barely proofread. enjoy

Rayne Ames. The Divine Visionary, the Sword Cane.

If you watch animal documentaries, you are probably aware that cheetahs can stay in the same position for up to sixteen hours without moving at all…

Well, it so happens that Rayne’s facial expression is like a cheetah. He somehow always looks like you’ve told him a really bad pun, and he’s judging you for it (not funny, did not laugh). He probably even has this face on while he sleeps, eats, showers, and probably even while he decides to please himself. 

And yet, despite looking annoyed every second of the day, despite looking like the unfriendliest guy in the whole Academy, he looks absolutely stunning. Anyone would agree that Rayne Ames is a feast on the eyes. And you, as his seatmate in class, aren’t one to deny this.

.....................................................................

It was your last class hour for today and you couldn’t wait to go back to your dorm room and rot in bed like the absolute lazybone you were. Changing out of your uniform was now an emergency, as the shirt you had picked today was somehow way too tight for you.

Being clueless with basic things such as laundry had its pros and cons. Sure, your clothes were smaller now and you could barely fit; but it made you look incredibly sexy! …or so you kept telling yourself. Maybe you were just trying to cope with the fact that you were incredibly bad at basic human tasks.

You made your way to the classroom and got your notebook out. 

Today’s subject was pure theory, and you would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t have the most scrumptious distraction sitting right next to you. You spent the hour doodling, taking notes whenever you paid enough attention to do so, and mostly throwing quick glances at your seatmate, Rayne, who was way too focused on the soporific theoretical experiments your elderly professor was passionately explaining, to pay attention to you.

When the old man turned around to write something on the blackboard, Rayne finally turned a fraction of his attention towards you. Of course, this happened during the minuscule amount of time you weren’t looking at him, and he took notice of a few things.

First of all, your notes were an absolute mess. Instead of trying to keep them consistent, you had picked a few words the teacher said, and chose to throw them into an adventure with other words, picked at different moments during class, resulting in an abomination that wouldn’t make sense, even to you. But you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never read your notes anyway. 

He would give you bonus points for the adorable little bunnies you had been doodling for the majority of your time in class, though.

Secondly, you seemed like you were about to sleep, but given the way you were taking notes, everything sort of made sense. Not your notes though, only the fact that you weren’t invested enough to stay awake.

Third of all, your shirt. He wished his eyes hadn’t lingered for such a long time on it. Why was it so tight? “Is she so dumb she can’t even do laundry?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that the button that kept your shirt closed around the chest area had the strength of a thousand lions. 

His eyes moved back to your face, and at this very moment, you chose to look at him. Your eyes met, and his expression was, as always, unreadable. Was he bored? Upset? Annoyed? At this point you were pretty sure he didn’t know any better. But it seemed a bit different this time, you could’ve sworn you saw his lower lid twitching slightly. 

You decided to turn your attention back to the teacher— or at least pretend to, for a while, and it lasted for a whopping fifty seconds. Efforts had been made! You deemed yourself deserving of a little treat, and an attempt was made to look at Rayne once again.

His eyes were still on you. Now it really felt like he was upset. You were used to his icy glare but it was getting a little uncomfortable, and so, as one does, you had a great shitty idea. You decided that stretching your back could maybe help you release some of this discomfort, and your button, may it rest in peace, gave up on its sole task of keeping your shirt closed. 

You couldn’t tell where it went at all. In fact, you didn’t even notice, but you did feel a little more comfortable now that your chest area was no longer being compressed, except it was in a literal meaning now, and not just figuratively speaking. You could still feel Rayne’s eyes on you, and decided that you wouldn’t look at him for the rest of this oh so boring class.

What you hadn’t noticed was that his eyes were no longer on your face, but rather on the missing button’s previous spot. “Is she so dumb she can’t take care of her clothing?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that he could now clearly see your bra. 

He could see that one mesmerising spot where your breasts were pushing in a wondrous effort to get out of their insufferable lace prison. In fact, pretty much anyone could’ve seen it if they had turned around, but it seemed this professor was either hypnotic or soporific because everyone was staring in his direction. 

You were then blissfully unaware of the fact that Rayne was now leading an internal battle. He had to get his eyes off of your cleavage, for your breasts were not the only things screaming for freedom anymore. Ah, perhaps Rayne was also bad at laundry, because his pants felt increasingly tight the longer he stared at you.

Divine Visionary or not, he was but a man, and what power does a man hold when presented with sweet bosoms? None. That’s right. He tried to think about anything else. Rabbits? His little brother, Finn? The concerning relationship Lance had with his little sister? The way alcoholism thrived amongst the ranks of the State police? No matter what went through his head, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He had to do something about it, and you were probably not escaping this one.

.....................................................................

As soon as the bell rang, he closed his coat as much as he could, and grabbed your arm before you could leave, and this time you could tell he was pretty upset. Why? How could you know? You didn’t know anything. Had your head not been attached to your shoulders, you would’ve probably lost it already. 

Instead of giving you any sort of explanation, he immediately dragged you with him. Your life felt like a movie that was playing in front of your eyes. My time has come, you thought, but… not quite.

You found yourself in Rayne’s dorm room, locked in with him. His roommate wasn’t there, and it was clear this crime would leave no witnesses. 

It took him half a second to remove his coat and— oh. You were suddenly in Egypt.

Everything was there: the stone hard pyramid, the Sphinx (that seemed ready to pounce on you), and the heat. Oh boy, the heat. As a very refined lady (yes you are), you brought your hand to your chest in indignation, and oh, how distraught you felt when you realised that your beloved chest button was nowhere to be seen. It was all starting to make sense.

Without a word, he pushed you against the wall and his lips met yours in a rough, steamy kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire; his toned chest was pressing against yours and breaking your buttons further, his clothed erection was slightly rubbing against your clit through your panties and his hands roamed your body hungrily while his tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored.

It was all a lot to take in but it felt so intoxicating, the way his large hands held onto your hips to keep you from squirming too much underneath his passionate touch, and how his teeth were grazing against your lips while a mixture of both your salivas dripped from the corner of your mouth. 

His body was grinding against yours like waves on the beach, and both your breathings were becoming increasingly noisy. Only after long, delicious minutes of this make-out session did he break the kiss, panting for air, as he looked into your eyes with a lustful gaze you were now used to seeing.

It wasn't your first time pushing his buttons like this, and it certainly wasn't your last.

“You did it on purpose, admit it.”

Whaaat, you? Pfffft, never! But… let’s just say you’re not usually that bad at doing your laundry.

.....................................................................

smol reminder that i am very bored and i also take requests for mashle, hsr, genshin, jjk, elsword, tower of fantasy...

xoxo

[bits-and-babs]

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[an-idyllic-novelist]

qin shi huang with yoriichi tsugikuni!fem!reader headcanons

warnings: spoilers from manga, ooc, slow burn friends-to-lovers troupe

Special thanks to @onecantsimply, @yellow-snark and @thatstrangesheep for their feedback and help with these headcanons! Enjoy! :)

Even in death, Qin Shi Huang was an emperor whom everyone respected as the ‘king who began everything’. He had reunited the annexed nations of China, a guiding light who led his people bringing peace and prosperity after almost a millennium of strife. Now, within the vast afterlife known as Valhalla, he reigned over a substantial amount of territory alongside his successors, working as a cohesive council when conflict arose.

Today, however, he has come to handle the problem on his own terms. For the last two months, men, women, and even children have gone missing from the foot of the northeastern mountains. Given the harsh environment, it is not too odd to believe that the cause of their disappearance might be an attack from a wild animal, angering the spirits who guard the terrain, or just simply got lost.

But the disemboweled bodies told the emperor a different story: there is a beast devouring his people, and it is certainly not a bear. For a split moment, Qin Shi Huang feared that Chi You had somehow returned from beyond its miserable grave and had come back to take revenge on the ‘insolent whelp’ who would not bow before its bony knees as payment for being accepted as an emperor of China.

If that were truly the case, though, there would be more corpses strewn about the mountain base than the current number of victims. Qin Shi Huang had already defeated the god, and he will do it again to protect his subjects. Such is the road he leads as an emperor, after all~.

So imagine his surprise when he comes across a six-armed being with pasty skin and glowing golden sclera, hunched over the corpse of a man cradling his child. It was not Chi You, but a demon. A demon that was the stuff of legends many years ago, only for them to suddenly vanish and become nothing more than a bedtime story to keep children from sneaking off at night.

And now, here is the great emperor, face-to-face with this drooling beast. Qin Shi Huang frowned, bending his sinewy body into an offensive position. Just when he was about to launch an attack, his opponent’s head rolled off its shoulders. He blinked, watching the demon’s body collapse onto the grass, twitching rapidly before disintegrating into dust. Hm? He hadn’t even moved! Unless the presence of an emperor is that powerful before a demon that it self destructs?

“Are you all right?” Qin Shi Huang then saw a figure standing where the demon had been, sword unsheathed. At first glance, she seemed like an ordinary traveler by the way she dressed, but the emperor knew that she was certainly not an ordinary person. Not from the tremendous amount of chi circulating around this woman’s body and the sword fastened at her waist.

She was a warrior as Chun Yan had been.

He grinned. “Hao!”

[Eye Color] orbs blinked at him in confusion, tilting her head to the side as she repeated the word. “Does that mean…you are hurt?”

Zori sandals stomped against the bloodied soil as she strode over to him, astounding Qin Shi Huang with her agility. She frowned slightly, her eyes scanning over his body. “You…are all right, it appears.” She glanced up at him. “I…apologize if I had gotten…your clothes dirty. You are a young lord, yes?”

Qin Shi Huang frowned. “Buhao.”

“Hm?”

He raised his right hand, pressing his middle and index fingers together before he pointed them towards the ground, the golden nail guards glowing beneath the moonlight. “Humble yourself. You are in the presence of an emperor. Be grateful I have not executed you for your impudence.”

“You…are an emperor?”

That was how the greatest emperor in all of Chinese history crossed paths with the greatest Demon Slayer in history, the Mother of All Breathing Techniques, the Sun Hashira [First Name] [Last Name].

In your defense, you never would have guessed that the man who had been endangered moments ago had not been a feudal lord looking for trouble in these woods, but an emperor who had come to kill the demon devouring his people.

You did apologize for being rude, and politely asked His Imperial Majesty if there was a town close by. You lived deep in the mountains, though in the opposite direction of his territory. It would take about two days to return should you leave now. That was only if you were lucky enough to not come across any more demons on your journey back home.

To your surprise, this emperor all but commanded you to follow him to his palace. He boasted that it was the largest one in Valhalla, with the finest food and rooms available for only esteemed guests and members of his court. However, since you did humble yourself before him, he will make an exception and allow a weary traveler to stay in the guest quarters for the night. You thanked him, trailing after the man through the woods to the crowded streets of a bustling city and right up the stone footsteps of an extravagant palace the likes of which you had never seen before.

You dared to say that it was much bigger than the Ubuyashiki compound.

With a clap of his jeweled hands, a group of young maidens in flowing robes appeared before him. He ordered them to make sure you received the most excellent care, including running a warm bath and mending your damaged clothes. Before you could have a moment to say something, you were immediately whisked away to another part of the palace until dinner was ready.

The food was just as extravagant as the clothes that the maidens had dressed you in. It was almost too much, but you dared to not insult your host. Instead, you bowed your head to him in gratitude and ate as much as you could without being too rude. Thankfully you could recall some of your table manners from when you had been alive, before becoming a Hashira and just the daughter of a prestigious household in the Sengoku era.

Between the raucous laughter and idle chatter amongst the others who dined at this table, you had almost expected to be asked to leave or escorted out of the banquet hall so that the emperor could speak to his fellow countrymen freely without the presence of an outsider.

Instead, His Imperial Majesty asked you many questions. Who you are, why were you in the woods, how did you defeat the demon, etc. You answered them to the best of your ability, humbly explaining that you had once been a Demon Slayer and trained to exterminate the ones who came out at night to consume human flesh. There is nothing special about you.

You had simply worked hard, protected humanity until your untimely death. There was no need for him to know of your ability to see the Transparent World, much less the Breathing Techniques of a Demon Slayer.

Some secrets were meant to be just that: secrets. And you were bad at explaining things; it had been a miracle that the Hashiras, those whom you had worked alongside all those years ago, could comprehend your words and adapt the Sun Breathing techniques into their own variations: Water, Insect, Flame, Wind, Stone, and so forth.

Again the emperor surprised you; he seemed intrigued by the Breathing Styles and continued to ask questions about how to use it until the handmaidens escorted you to the guest quarters later that night, although His Imperial Majesty wished to keep speaking even in a drunken stupor.

The following morning, you thanked the emperor for his hospitality and left the palace. An armed entourage followed you out to the city’s borders to make sure you would not try to attack His Imperial Majesty nor the citizens. You thanked them for their vigilance and hard work before beginning the journey towards your humble home.

You were certain that this was the first and only time you would come across royalty and thought nothing of it in the days that went by upon returning, weeks becoming almost two months since the demon attack. You would either be tending to the crops or practicing your swordsmanship. Eventually, it was time for you to venture down from the mountains to restock on your supplies.

The villagers who lived at the mountain’s edge were kind people. Some of them were elderly and required assistance with manual labor or errands. You did not mind helping them, and were quite hesitant to accept anything from them, especially rice or other precarious commodities.

Most were merchants who traveled a great distance from the village to the city to sell their wares. How could you even consider taking that away from them? To your dismay, they were quite stubborn and practically shoved it in your hands.

The ‘payment’ from the villagers, including the usual amount of items you purchased from the vendors, became too much for you to carry without making two trips up and down the mountain.

You were almost considering having to borrow a cart when a voice called out to you.

Turning around, your eyes widened in shock at the appearance of the emperor Qin Shi Huang walking down the muddied main road, flanked by four or five armed soldiers. He recognized you immediately, almost running with a wide grin on his face.

He’d been wanting to continue his conversation with you, yet due to his workload in the palace prevented him from venturing out sooner. You had also been difficult to track down as no one seemed to be aware that a Demon Slayer wearing hanafuda earrings existed in Valhalla except for a young whelp and his little sister living in the floating cities alongside the Valkyries.

But now, he’s here and ready to chat~. You should be grateful he had traveled such a long way to visit. He is an emperor after all. He was willing to help carry the supplies up the mountains if it meant he had an opportunity to challenge you to a fight and idly chatter over drinks.

Upon explaining that you did not drink alcohol, the emperor told you not to fret. He’s come prepared. Revealing a large jug of corked liquor in his hand with a wide grin, you realized that he would not go away even if you politely asked him too.

So with great reluctance, you guided Qin and his entourage up the mountains, some of them carrying your supplies.

A peaceful day became chaotic. And from this single afternoon of idle chatter and sparring with an incredibly powerful fighter transitioned to an unlikely friendship. Qin Shi Huang was nothing like Sumiyoshi, that much was certain.

Where Sumiyoshi was a humble man blessed to have a family in turbulent times, the boastful emperor had been an unwanted child from the moment he was born. If it had not been for his mentor and mother, that meek little boy would not have the confidence to move forward and pave the road for his people to live in peace, let alone find a method to deal with the Zhao’s anger aimed at him simply because he was from royalty.

He had many children sired from his concubines but he never took an empress, much to his council’s annoyance even in the afterlife. Chun Yan too, of all people!

Yet despite such different personalities from two different people who are your friends….you knew they both possessed kindness and empathy. Why else would an emperor continue to maintain contact with you via letters and occasionally visit you in the mountains over the next thirty years?

He’s a man who had led his people into prosperity after all, the king of all kings.

You had lost so much when you were alive…is it truly all right to be selfish and treasure Qin Shi Huang as a friend, an emperor of all people?

Qin Shi Huang quickly discovered that there was more to his new friend than being a calm, unreadable individual who never raised her voice once even when he had been purposely annoying just to gauge a reaction.

The Sun Hashira…she was perfect. A beautiful, complex creature who values integrity and kindness above all else. She did not enjoy fighting, preferring a quiet life away from society than challenging one opponent after another. And like him, she knew what it meant to lose a loved one.

When it came to strength, she once told him, those who are marked like herself will all meet the same fate. He had an idea as to the cryptic meaning behind her words…and he prayed that she would live in this afterlife.

When he revealed his past to her, what he had done as a child until his death, the Sun Hashira simply accepted it all as they say together on the snowy veranda of her small home.

“To live in an era of conflict…there can never be true peace without bloodshed. Your Imperial Majesty had gone through so much….and you were loved deeply by Chun Yan. I wish….I could have met her….and thank her for raising a wonderful, strong son.”

Qin Shi Huang.exe stopped working for a span of five seconds before he tried to hide his embarrassment with a swing of the warm sake that his host had prepared especially for them to celebrate the New Year together.

Another year has come and gone…so why was it that his heart hasn’t stopped hammering against his ribcage?

Bonus Content:

After five years of sending luxurious gifts and love letters, it took a stammering confession from the emperor to convey his feelings towards the Sun Hashira.

Although she did not want to marry right away, she humbly accepted a period of courtship from China’s greatest emperor until it was appropriate to be welcomed as his empress.

Some of his court were pleased that he had finally selected a wife to become the mother of the nation, but there were others who believed that [First Name] was too independent and would not respect the traditions required to follow after becoming an empress.

Needless to say, Qin Shi Huang made an example of the courtiers who dared to disrespect his new wife behind closed doors. His warning also extended to the concubines, should they try to do something malicious out of petty jealousy.

Quality time included sampling delicacies in the garden, sparring matches, and cuddling in his private quarters.

Chun Yan approved of [First Name], congratulating her adoptive son on finding a woman who can keep up with his shenanigans.

The domestic bliss between the emperor and empress never wavered…until Brunhilde approached the palace and asked for their aid to fight against the gods. Both of them.

If it hadn’t been for [First Name]’s benevolence, Qin would have immediately executed the Valkyrie on the spot for her arrogance. Instead he gave her the courtesy and listened to her proposal regarding the event called Ragnarok. A battle royale until one opponent is annihilated.

The emperor would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, but he had no intention of bringing his Sun Hashira into it. He wanted her to spend this afterlife in peace, not to put her life on the line again.

Alas, his wife was stubborn. He agreed to Brunhilde’s terms so long as she agreed to his terms. Once she left the palace, he pulled his empress into a long talk about this…situation.

Whatever obstacles will come their way, they will face it together. The Sun Hashira isn’t alone anymore.

Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@onecantsimply

@recreationalfanfics

@deathmetalunicorn1

@yellow-snark

@thatstrangesheep

@dance-till-the-death

@staticradiotv​

Honorable mentions:

@myrisan-melodies​

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 starlight

Pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

Warnings:  ooc mattheo ig, strangers?? to lovers, some things may not be accurate with the hp timeline but shhhh.., no mention of y/n, no mention of house or gender but written with f!reader in mind, time skip, bad writing.., nor really related to “starlight” by taylor but it's hinted.. somewhat

an: finally (!!!!) posting, I plan to post more this month and next year! since fluff is winning the poll, why not just post before the poll closes! ill post something else soon, enjoy this active era... don't know how long it'll last... anyways, I decided to make a Mattheo fic, I wasn't planning on writing for fancast characters but oh well...

4k words :3

The music echoed through the grand hall of Hogwarts as the ballroom glittered with candlelight and charm. The Great Hall had been transformed, enchanted with silver and gold streamers that twirled in the air, floating like ribbons of light. Students twirled and danced in their finest robes, laughing and spinning beneath the enchanted ceiling that reflected a thousand stars.

You stood on the edge of the room, watching the scene unfold with a quiet smile. It was a magical night—one of those rare nights at Hogwarts when everything seemed to shimmer a little brighter, when the worries of exams and dark rumors faded into the background. You could hear the soft murmur of conversation and the click of shoes against the polished stone floors, but all of it felt like a dream, something out of reach.

Then, as though the world had shifted, you saw him.

Mattheo Riddle.

He stood across the room, bathed in the soft glow of the lights, his dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. His black suit was tailored to perfection, sharp enough to cut glass, and yet somehow, it made him look even more out of place among the laughing couples and chattering students.

He wasn’t the type to care for events like these, not with his reputation. But there he was, looking like he had stepped out of a story—a page from a fairytale written in shadow.

Before you could turn away, your eyes met his. For a brief moment, time slowed, the bustling world around you fading to a whisper. There was something magnetic about Mattheo, something that made it impossible to look away. He didn’t smile, not at first, but there was an almost imperceptible tilt of his lips, a challenge in his gaze.

You took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of him. The rumors about Mattheo Riddle had followed him around for as long as you could remember. He was the son of Voldemort, after all, and most people saw him as nothing but a shadow of his father’s dark legacy.

But standing there, amidst the glamour of the night, he didn’t seem so terrifying. He seemed… alive. And that was enough to make your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

As if on cue, Mattheo took a step toward you, his movements confident, but there was something almost hesitant in the way he approached.

"Don't tell me you're avoiding the dance floor," he said, his voice low and smooth, like it always was, the corners of his mouth barely lifting in amusement.

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I prefer to watch," you replied. "Not everyone likes being the center of attention."

"Ah," he smirked, his eyes glinting in the soft light. "But you would be, wouldn't you?"

Your gaze flicked to the crowd around you—pairs of students swaying, spinning in time with the music. You shrugged, feeling a spark of defiance rise in you. "Not if I don't want to be."

For a moment, you both stood in silence, the music continuing to swirl around you. Then, unexpectedly, Mattheo extended his hand.

"Shall we, then?"

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to, but because of all the things that might follow—rumors, questions, the consequences of dancing with someone like him.

But then, you looked at him—really looked at him—and saw something beyond the darkness of his family name. There was something in his eyes that was raw, something that felt familiar.

You took his hand.

The moment your fingers brushed against his, the entire room seemed to shift. The crowd, the noise, the shadows—all of it melted away as if you and Mattheo were the only ones who existed in that moment.

He led you onto the floor, his grip firm yet gentle, and together, you moved. You didn’t need words. The music took over, and as you both swirled and stepped in perfect sync, you felt as if the very night had been made for this—a moment, fleeting yet infinite.

The whole place was dressed to the nines, the lights casting everything in gold and silver. You were dancing, dancing like you were made of starlight. The floor beneath your feet felt like it was floating, the air crackling with magic. There was no sense of time, no sense of anything other than the rhythm of the music, the warmth of his hand in yours, and the overwhelming feeling that you were a part of something much bigger than yourself.

For once, nothing else mattered. Not the expectations of your houses, not the whispered rumors that followed Mattheo wherever he went, not even the legacy that hung over his every move. In that moment, you weren’t the daughter of this family or the son of that one. You were just two people, dancing beneath the stars, lost in the magic of the night.

As you spun around, Mattheo’s face softened. His usually guarded eyes shone with something you couldn’t name, a kind of freedom that was rare for him, rare for anyone in this world that demanded so much.

“You look like you’re made of starlight,” he said, his voice barely louder than the music around you. “Like you’ve never known anything but this—this moment.”

You laughed softly, breathlessly, spinning in a circle as he twirled you, the movement effortless, like it had been practiced a thousand times in some distant dream.

“Maybe I have,” you teased, “but I don’t think I’ve ever danced with someone like you before.”

His lips curled up slightly, a hint of something softer behind his usual cool demeanor. “I’m not who they say I am,” he said quietly, his words only for you. “And I don’t think you are, either.”

For the first time, the truth in his words felt real. The world around you faded, and there was only the two of you, dancing together under a night full of stars—like you were made for this, made for each other.

As the song reached its final notes, you both slowed, your hearts still racing with the electric energy of the dance. The night was far from over, but in that moment, everything felt possible.

The last note of the slow melody echoed in the air, and the room seemed to hold its breath as you and Mattheo stood still, caught in the moment. The other students around you began to return to their conversations and laughter, but neither of you moved, still wrapped in the enchantment of the night.

Mattheo’s hand remained on your waist, his fingers grazing lightly against your skin, making it feel as if the night wasn’t quite ready to let go of its magic. There was an unspoken understanding between you both, a sense that, just for this one night, the rules didn’t apply. And you found yourself caught up in the moment, as though you were both playing parts in a story where anything was possible.

"Well," you said, breaking the silence, a playful glint in your eye, "that was fun. Too bad it’s almost over."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Who says it’s over?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Mattheo Riddle, are you suggesting we do something reckless?”

His eyes sparkled with an almost dangerous amusement. "I’m suggesting we do whatever we want. No one’s going to stop us."

You took a breath, feeling the adrenaline surge through your veins. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the starlight, or maybe it was the fact that you had never met anyone like him before, but in that moment, you realized that you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. Not yet.

"Alright," you said, grinning, "what do you have in mind?"

Mattheo’s smile widened, a glimmer of mischief lighting up his dark eyes. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I know a way to make this night unforgettable.”

He took your hand, and without waiting for another word, he led you toward the back of the hall, away from the crowd. The further you walked, the more it felt like you were stepping away from the rules of the school, stepping into something that was entirely your own. You could almost hear the soft hum of magic around you, as though the night itself was urging you forward.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice low, full of anticipation.

“Trust me,” Mattheo said with a grin, his hand still firmly holding yours. “This is going to be much more fun than anything in there.”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Before you knew it, you were sneaking down the hidden corridors of Hogwarts, away from the watchful eyes of the professors. The sounds of the ball faded behind you, replaced by the quiet hum of the castle’s stone walls and the rhythmic thud of your shoes on the floor.

“Where are we going?” you asked again, this time more curious than ever.

Mattheo turned to you with a grin that was nothing short of devilish. "We’re going to do something no one’s ever done before. Something no one’s allowed to see."

You raised an eyebrow, your heart beating faster with excitement. "What, like sneaking into the Restricted Section?"

"Even better," he replied, his grin widening. "You’ll see."

Soon, you found yourself outside one of the secret entrances to the castle—a hidden door that led to the courtyard. Mattheo gave you a look, as if daring you to question what was about to happen. Without another word, he stepped outside, pulling you along with him, the cool night air hitting your skin like a wave of freedom.

Outside, the world had transformed. The moonlight bathed the courtyard in soft, silver light, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. You could hear the distant sounds of the ball still going on inside, but it felt far away now. It was as if you were living in your own little world, far removed from the structure and rules of the school.

Mattheo gave you a wink before walking toward the small, abandoned boathouse by the lake, a place where few students ventured. You could tell by his confident stride that this was no accident, no last-minute idea. This was exactly what he’d been planning all along.

As you reached the boathouse, he turned to you, his eyes alight with something mischievous. “Ever sneak into a party no one invited you to?”

You laughed, knowing exactly where this was headed. “Are you really asking me that?”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, enchanted key—a key that unlocked a small, rusted door at the back of the boathouse. It creaked open, and you followed Mattheo inside, only to find yourself standing in front of a small boat, hidden from the view of the rest of the castle. The boat was waiting—its silver oars gleaming softly under the moonlight.

"This is where the fun begins," Mattheo said, as though the whole world were an open invitation. "We’re going to take the boat out onto the lake, just like a couple of royal rebels—no one will know. We’ll be our own duchess and prince, living on our own terms."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the feeling of wild freedom washing over you. This was absurd, ridiculous, and absolutely perfect.

Mattheo winked at you, his expression playful. "If anyone asks, we’re a pair of nobles escaping the confines of their royal duties."

The image of you and Mattheo sneaking out under the stars, pretending to be royalty, made you laugh again. It was like a scene from some fairy tale, a far cry from the expectations of the world around you. For once, you didn’t care who was watching. You were exactly where you were meant to be.

You climbed into the boat beside him, the cool night air swirling around you as the two of you set off into the lake, the boat gliding silently across the water. The lights of Hogwarts twinkled in the distance, but here, in the middle of the lake, it was just the two of you—alive, free, and made of starlight.

The boat creaked gently as it floated back toward the shore, your hands still tangled in Mattheo’s. The night air was cool now, the stars shining brightly above you as the two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the ball long forgotten behind you. The distant sounds of laughter and music still echoed in your mind, but it was almost as if they belonged to someone else’s world now—the world you had left behind when you stepped outside with Mattheo, a world of rules and expectations.

Your thoughts were swirling. This night had been more than just a dance or a stolen boat ride—it had felt like an escape, like you and Mattheo were breaking free from everything that had ever tried to define you. It felt like you could dream impossible things, and for a fleeting moment, those dreams were more real than the walls of Hogwarts itself.

But as you neared the shore, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything that had come before this night, everything that had been lurking in the back of your mind. The pressure of your future, the weight of what people expected from you, the doubts you had about yourself—it all came rushing back in.

You glanced over at Mattheo, the full moon casting a silvery glow over his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made you wonder if he, too, was caught up in the same thoughts.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice low as the boat gently bumped against the rocks of the shore.

You hesitated, not sure how to explain the whirlwind inside your head. “I’m just... thinking,” you said softly. “About everything. About the future. About things I can’t change.”

Mattheo’s gaze softened, and he let go of the oars, turning to face you fully. “You know,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “you worry too much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Worry too much? About what?”

He reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch light but deliberate. “About things you can’t control. Things you can’t change. You’ll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way.”

His words felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but you couldn’t quite let go. "But what if I can’t change them? What if I’m just stuck?"

Mattheo leaned back slightly, looking up at the sky, his gaze distant for a moment as if he was searching for something. His voice was low, but firm. "You can’t change the things that happen to you. But you can change how you see them."

He paused, his eyes meeting yours again, this time with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"Don’t you see the starlight, starlight?" he asked, his words slow, deliberate. "Don’t you dream impossible things?"

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden depth of his voice. It was almost as if he was pulling you into his world, asking you to forget about the weight of reality and just... believe.

He took a step closer, his hand reaching for yours again, his fingers brushing over your knuckles. “There’s magic in this world, you know. Not just the kind that happens in the classrooms or the halls of Hogwarts. But the kind that comes when you stop worrying about everything you can’t change and start dreaming about everything you could.”

You found yourself leaning in just slightly, drawn to the fire in his eyes. The world seemed to hold its breath for a moment, everything else vanishing into the starlight. "What if my dreams don’t come true? What if all this is just... just a fleeting thing?"

Mattheo’s lips quirked into a smile, but there was something so genuine in it, something that made you believe him. "Then at least you’ll know you tried. And I can promise you this—you’re never alone in your dreams."

There was a weight to his words, an unspoken promise that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it made your heart race. You took a deep breath, trying to steady the feeling that was blooming inside you, something warm, something real.

The air around you felt alive, as though Mattheo’s words had summoned something powerful between you—something bigger than Hogwarts, bigger than the worries you had been carrying for so long.

“Mattheo,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if we just... forget everything? Just for tonight.”

His gaze softened, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”

Mattheo took your hand once more and pulled you gently toward the shore. The moonlight illuminated the two of you as if you were the only two people in the world. And for the first time all night, you felt a sense of peace, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. That you could dream beyond what you thought was possible.

The weight of everything you couldn’t change, everything that had been pressing down on you, seemed lighter now, as if Mattheo had taken it all away with a few simple words.

“So what’s next, then?” you asked, your voice light, playful. “Where do we go from here?”

Mattheo chuckled softly, the sound carrying across the stillness of the lake. “We go wherever we want,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “And wherever we want is our world. The world we’re going to make.”

You smiled, finally letting yourself believe him. It was crazy, it was reckless, but it felt right. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to let go of the things you couldn’t control. For once, you were going to dream impossible things—and maybe, just maybe, they would come true.

Mattheo’s hand was still in yours, and you could feel the magic of the night wrapping around you both like a promise.

This was only the beginning.

And as the two of you stood there on the shore, under the starlit sky, you both knew that anything was possible. Even dreams that seemed impossible.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Three months had passed since that unforgettable night on the lake, where Mattheo and you had escaped the confines of Hogwarts and found freedom under the stars. Since then, things had changed in the most unexpected, but wonderful way.

You and Mattheo had gone from secret stolen moments to open affection, from daring adventures to quiet, late-night talks. There was something easy about being with him, something that felt as though it had always been meant to be. The once carefree moments of rebellion had turned into quiet afternoons together, exploring the world beyond the walls of the castle, letting each other in in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

Tonight, though, things were different. You were at the Yule Ball, one of the most anticipated events of the year. The air was filled with the gentle hum of magical music, and the grand hall was glowing with enchanted lights, just like the first time you’d danced with Mattheo. This time, though, you were no longer strangers. You were a couple, and there was a deeper sense of understanding between you two.

Mattheo looked as handsome as ever, dressed to the nines in a deep emerald green suit, his dark hair tousled just the right amount. He looked at you with a familiar, lazy smile as you met him in the center of the floor.

“Ready for another night we won’t forget?” he asked, his voice smooth and full of promise.

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat. “Always.”

As the music began to play, you found yourself swept into a gentle waltz. The orchestra’s soft melody filled the air, and Mattheo’s hand slid easily into place at your waist, pulling you in closer.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you both moved in sync, the ease of your connection making the dance seem effortless. The way his hand held yours, the way his eyes locked with yours—it was like a scene from a dream.

And then, something strange happened. As you spun in the circle of his arms, you felt a rush of deja vu, a sense of déjà vu that made everything feel like it had happened before—this exact moment, this exact dance, this exact feeling of being swept away.

The music was now the same song that had played on that first magical night—the night when everything had started. You remembered the boat ride, the starlit sky, the way Mattheo had told you that you could dream impossible things. It felt like the universe had conspired to bring you back to this moment.

Mattheo seemed to sense it too. He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing just slightly, his grip on your hand tightening.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

You nodded, the feeling of being here with him—again—too strong to ignore. “Yeah... It’s like we’ve danced this dance before.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “It’s because we have. It just took us a little while to get here.”

His words echoed in your mind. We’ve danced this dance before. And in a way, you realized, you had. This wasn’t just a simple waltz. This was a story that was continuing, a dream that you had both shared and were now living in real-time.

You spun again, the room spinning with you, but this time, everything was in perfect harmony. The music, the people around you, the glittering lights. It was all a part of the magic you had built together. A love you’d crafted from impossible dreams and starlight.

Mattheo leaned in as the music softened, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know,” he said in that playful, teasing voice that made your heart race, “I’ve been thinking…”

You raised an eyebrow, still caught up in the rhythm of the dance. “Uh-oh, should I be worried?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Well, I was thinking that, maybe one day, we could get married. Have ten kids. Teach ‘em how to dream impossible things, just like we’ve been doing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a soft sound that was filled with affection. “Ten kids? That’s a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”

Mattheo grinned, his lips curling into a devil-may-care smile. “Hey, I’m just dreaming impossible things here.”

You leaned into him, the soft beat of the music surrounding you both. There was a certain magic in that idea—impossible, maybe, but thrilling all the same.

For a brief moment, you both fell into a quiet, peaceful silence, the song washing over you like a tide of shared memories. The whole place was alive with the hum of the ball, but in that instant, it felt like it was just the two of you, wrapped in the starlight, with the impossible dreams you shared.

As the song played on, the world seemed to blur around you, the room twinkling like the stars above. You and Mattheo danced, lost in the rhythm, lost in the magic of this moment. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like the world wasn’t something to be feared or controlled. It was something to be embraced, to be dreamed into existence.

When the song ended, you and Mattheo stood there, both of you breathing slightly heavier, faces flushed from the intensity of the dance. His hand lingered on your waist, and yours was still tightly wrapped around his. The crowd around you had grown louder with the ending of the dance, but the two of you seemed to exist in a bubble—one that had been created by the impossible dreams you both shared.

“You know,” Mattheo said softly, his voice almost a whisper against the music, “it’s moments like this... that make me feel like anything is possible.”

You smiled, your heart swelling. "I know exactly what you mean."

He pulled you closer for another slow dance, as if time itself was standing still, and for once, it felt like the impossible was within reach.

[inkyycapp]

Yokai!matsu kidnapping reader..? It ticks a few things at once. Oh! Oh! They're kidnapped cos they were found injured, but even after they've healed the yokai brothers (seperately) refuse to let them go.

Cough, cough. I love this, cough.

You're getting hcs too.

Ahem

Slight notice! I did some minor research for this, but even then I'm still unsure !! If anything is wrong please do tell me !!

(Uh so, really bad weather rn. Wifi going in and out and tornadoes lurking around, so, like that's rad ig !! Forgive me.)

Tw/Cw: Injuries, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, manipulation(?), desperation, spelling/grammar(?), probably a little or a lot ooc I'm terrible at telling !! Forgive me !!

Youkai!Matsu x Injured!Reader

( Yokai!Matsu but used Youkai for letter colors..:D )

Small reader context !!

For whatever reason you're in the mountains doing whatever your mortal self does up there. A sharp pain shoots through your leg causing you to slip. Your foot set off a bear/fox trap. A group of bandits or just overall bad people--who one would assume set the trap--find poor injured you.

You don't have much on hand. Maybe you have a weapon, maybe you don't. But, regardless of how hard you fight, there are just more of them the there are of you.

Osomatsu

Oni

-He doesn't hate humans, but he doesn't actively like them either. He's more neutral about it.

-Like, he wouldn't go out of his way to help/save them, that's way too much work for him. But, he also wouldn't go out of his way to kill someone unless they really pissed him off.

-Doesn't really understand humans, but somewhat understand and takes a small liking to bits of their culture and activities.

-Actually fairly in with the times, but doesn't really try enough to be in with the times, y'know?

-Obviously takes part in gambling with the humans regardless of the time period.

-He finds that you're injured and probably not going to make it out of the situation alive.

-While at first he's slightly indifferent about your situation, he recognizes you from the village below. He probably asked for money and you gave it to him, or maybe you work at one of the place he frequents, but for whatever reason, he may be persuaded to help.

-You're already unconscious and he can't help but feel pity for you. Pretty nasty leg injury. Maybe he should help.

-And, so, he does!

-After attending to your Injuries best he could, he decided to wait for you to come around. He'll admit, the patch up was sloppy, but it did the job, that's what matters.

-Eventually, you'd come around and find yourself face to face with the devil himself. Whether fearful or not, this would take some...adjusting.

-Compared to the known sterotype, he seems more lax and less...demonic.

-He finds you interesting. Somehow, that curiosity hadn't faded one moment since he's found you. Expect some questions personal, even perverted, or not.

-Dislikes when you get up or move around without his help. Though, more chill and just lightly scold you for straining yourself.

-Then, soon, one day you're all better. But, he doesn't want you to leave. How strange. He didn't think he'd be this...attached to someone like yourself. Not like that, bit it's weird to him.

-He had seen humans come and go--grow old and die. He's never been this comfortable with humans before he'd met you. He doesn't want you to leave. Will you ever see each other again after you part ways? Probably not, but he doesn't want to take that chance.

-So, you can't leave just yet.

Karamatsu

Shikigami

-Karamatsu loves humans/humanity the MOST out of this list. He often tries to be 'in' with the culture no matter the time period. He goes through many "phases" trying to be what the humans deem is cool in certain points of time.

-He loves to collect and tell stories that humans tell, though can sometimes stretch it a little for a more theatrical performance.

-He often tries to interact with people and walk amongst them. But, it usually never goes well.

-His brothers often tease, but he's restless in his search for a human Karamatsu boy or girl.

-When he found you in the snow plains, a red staining the snow around you, he didn't hesitate to check out the scene.

-A group of people trying to take advantage of a defenseless Karamatsu boy or girl !! Of course he felt the need to intervene and help the poor soul.

-He manages to scare off the bandits, but by the time he gets to you, you're already out. It pains him to see such a beauty in so much pain.

-Karamatsu, without so much as a second thought, takes you somewhere much safer. A nice small cabin deep in the woods. That's where he nurses injured you back to health.

-At first, you're probably shocked, but maybe around the first week mark, you'll probably get used to it. If not, don't worry! You'll have a long time to adjust!

-He's very curious about you and the humans you surround yourself with. His knowledge of the culture is a little outdated, not by much. Still, it's nothing compared to understanding the real thing.

-He doesn't like when you try to get up. You need to recover. You'll probably hurt yourself! Don't worry, he'll do it for you!

-Honestly, just wants you to be safe. By far, you're the first human that he's ever gotten this close with--both metaphorically and literally.

-He just wants to keep you safe. There are monsters lurking both human and spirit. Surely you know.

-Karamatsu had already taken a liking to you since he met you, but over the time of your recovery, he's grown too attached to let you leave.

-You'll stay, won't you?

Choromatsu

Tengu

-Also kind of neutral, more lenient towards pretty humans. It's so painfully obvious, his brothers tease him about it, though he's incredibly indenile.

-While claiming he doesn't have an obvious leniency towards pretty humans, it is obvious to literally anyone. Including the mortals down in the villages.

-Choromatsu won't go out of his way to harm anyone he considers "pretty or cute", though his idea of pretty and cute is complicated! Not always about looks, but mannerisms, actions, etc.

-He spots you before. And, he folds at first glance. It's not difficult to be encouraged to help you. You're practically a sparkly treasure to be collected and safe guarded.

-But, then he watches as you're injured self begins to get surrounded by the group that seemed to have caught you.

-Choromats had quickly intervened, chasing off the group (probably off a cliff), before returning back to you.

-Laying in the snow, you were out cold and didn't seem to respond at all, your pulse being the only thing noting you're still alive.

-Won't deny, he was absolutely panicking at first, figuring out how to clean your injures properly.

-Eventually, he does somewhat figure it out, and once you're stable he takes that time to breathe. And, well, admire your sleeping form. Not in a creepy way, but just studying you.I

-When you do come around, he's trying and failing with his words for a moment.

-Takes care of you, and while he does often nag you, he's more so worried about how your recovery is coming along.

-Tends to kinda hover, keeping a close eye on you, telling you to lay down and get rest and that he can do whatever it was you wanted to get up to do.

-Will refuse to let you get up and do anything for yourself. Why have you do it when you have him? A literal waste, really!

-Even if he sees your coming around and the healing process is moving quicker than he wants, he still refuses to let you do anything.

-Now comes the time when you're ready to leave the nest. Pun.

-He obviously begs you to stay, much without words. Choromatsu doesn't want you to go now that he's oh so attached! You can't go. You won't leave, will you?

-Please don't leave .

Ichimatsu

Kitsune

-Ichimatsu, opposed to Karamatsu, probobly hates humans/humanity the most on this list.

-Often times, he was the cause of some humans lost or missing on the mountain. Though, he wouldn't go out of his way for anything unless angered or maybe he just felt malicious that day.

-Humans find him captivating despite his dislike for them. Even so, he won't admit it, but they do fascinate him on some occasions.

-He spots the bandits first, then you after he gets rid of those loud bandits that woke him from his nap. He considers getting rid of you, too.

-But, you're asleep. And, it seemed your leg is caught pretty badly. It doesn't seem like you'll be able to move far with your leg like that. You'll probably be dead in a matter of hours. He doesn't have to do a thing.

-No, he doesn't feel bad for you. Not one bit. You're just an unlucky human caught by the foot like some poor rabbit.

-Ichimatsu does somehow end up carrying you off elsewhere--somewhere more comfortable. Don't be mistaken, he may be helping you, but no further than this.

-Once you're safe in the small cabin, he does the bare minimum with your injuries and once your stable, he leaves.

-You'll wake up alone, and it'll probably be like that for maybe a few hours before you're visited by a stranger.

-Ichimatsu takes care you you between visits, though he doesn't speak to you often. You're probably scared being so close to a monster like himself.

-But, you grow comfortable in his presence and attempt to talk to him. Something he finds real odd, but almost sweet. He still doesn't talk to you though, but he almost wants to.

-His visits grow more frequent, and he even began bringing you gifts. Like dead animals. But, it's the thought that counts!

-He ends up more attached than he would've liked to admit. And, unlike some people on the list, he's more blunt that you remain here with him.

-You'll be stuck with a monster trash like him, but at least here he can keep you warm and fed.

-You're staying put. There's no reason for you to leave anyways.

Jyushimatsu

Inugami

-Honestly, it doesn't matter to Jyushimatsu. He's fairly friendly to any and all who walk in his path. Many run, but it doesn't bother him much.

-Though, if he had to love one thing about them, he absolutely loves their sports and activities. Often goes with Karamatsu to go take part in "human activities".

-But as one can assume, they get comically outed.

-Is fairly kind opposed to some on this list. He won't go out of his way to harm humans regardless how he feels, though when it comes to helping it's a 50/50. Normally at least tries. But, if he doesn't like you, he'll probably just watch with a lead stare.

-When he found you in the snow, you were surrounded, and he had accidentally hit one of the people with a baseball. Completely by accident. But, kinda thinks maybe the accident wasn't that much of an accident.

-Ends up completely making a fool of the group when leading them away. But, he quickly returns to where you had been laying.

-Similar to Choromatsu, he panics at first and is so unsure about how to go about this situation. Obviously he doesn't want to make it worse, but he really doesn't want you to die.

-He carries you off to the small cabin to tend to your wounds. It's sloppy patch-job, but it's alright.

-Watches you while you sleep. Pokes you now and again. When you don't move for too long Jyushimatsu does tend to panic a little but settles when you finally take in that breath of air.

-When you do wake up, he's happy you're up and not dead. Sure, he may not feel too bad if you died, but only because he didn't have a close enough connection to care, but that wouldn't mean he wouldn't care.

-Jyushimatsu tries to stay the entire time your recovering. While he does hover a little, he's more considerate of your space.

-Does whatever he can to make you laugh. Whether it's acting out a skit, telling jokes or just being goofy.

-Doesn't care if it makes him look dumb. As long as he at least gets a smile out of you it doesn't matter.

-Gets way too attached way to quick. And, when you're all better, he gets a little (lying) clingy.

-Whines and may even howl like a kicked puppy. Might even do tricks if it gets you to stay.

-Don't leave yet!!

Todomatsu

Baku-Danuki

-Todomatsu doesn't hate them, but he doesn't care for them either, similar to Osomatsu. However, he's more in with their culture, more so than Karamatsu. Only because he thinks it's cute.

-Prefers some time period clothing to others and can tend to stand out, but language is definitely up to date.

-He views humans/humanity as beneath him, or simply to play into his enjoyment. He has no issues getting rid of anyone that doesn't gives him what he wants out of an interaction. Absolutely stone cold.

-He spots a few humans gathering around, and grows curious as to what grabbed their attention.

-Their wares seem to interest him. Then, there's you. After disposing of the others, he's left with unconscious you. What to do with you.

-Well, you could be useful. You'll pretty much be indebted to him for saving you. Or, at least you should be.

-So, he drags you away from the scene, tenderly caring to your wounds, putting on a sweet and kind persona.

-When you awaken, he greets you gently, coming forward as the one who saved your life after he found you on the brink of death in the snow.

-Skeptical or not, you come around and thank him however you would. Already gaining praise from you. Admittedly, the praise feels...nicer than it should. He brushes it off, what else can he get from you.

-He slyly asks you questions, gaining more information of your personal life over a week, maybe two.

-You get up to do something, and being the ever so kind savior, he takes you back to bed, doing the task for you instead. Not that he wants to. He's playing the long game with your little life.

-But, you thank him, telling him just how kind he is. Todomatsu can't help but grow addicted to that feeling. Being appreciated and validated.

-Slowly, but surely, he begins to grow a bit (a lot) attached. He didn't think it was possible. But, soon he doesn't see you as just a human, but as you.

-Once you get better, he does contemplate poisoning you to get you to stay. Not much to kill you, but enough so he could still take care of you.

-Todomatsu doesn't do it. But, he has heavily considered it.

-He will try his damndest to get you to remain in this little cabin with him.

-You can't go yet! You need him!

So funny that Osomatsu and Karamatsu are my favorites in general, but Todomatsu is my favorite to write for, and Jyushimatsu is my favorite to draw. What.

I still dislike Choromatsu. There is no reason for it.

Anyway if you're here, try Arizona RX Energy Herbal Tonic Tea. It's so damn good. That's all lmao !!

[anzynai]

Kitty

Husk x Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)

a/n: helloooo, so someone requested a part 2 (and i enjoyed writing huskerdust) so of course, part 2!! this is a sequel to my first fic only you, which you can check out first if you’d like, but this can also be read as a standalone. ignore the fact that i accidentally switched povs about halfway😭😭 hope this isnt ooc LOL and enjoy!!

summary: another night of husk and angel existing together. of course, things are bound to happen.

word count: 1.1k

——

“I swear to fuck, I’m going to die if I have to work another eighteen hour shift again.” Angel moaned, leaning his head back on the headrest of the sofa as he stretched his legs on Husk’s thighs. Husk sat on the sofa beside him.

Angel had come back to the Hotel about an hour ago and as usual, Husk and Angel went to talking. Though, after finishing their drinks, they didn’t simply retire to their rooms for the night. Instead, the conversation had shifted from the barstools to the couches in the living room.

“Sounds like you had it rough today.” Husk sympathizes, because he really does.

“Tell me about it.” Angel rolls his eyes. He shifts his legs again and it becomes increasingly more difficult for Husk to ignore their closeness. Somehow, during their talk, they had gotten closer and closer and if one of the other hotel patrons had walked on them at this moment, Husk was afraid they would think they were.. interrupting something.

The last time they were this close was.. yeah, when Husk tickled Angel. They hadn’t mentioned it since, which Husk was a bit shocked about. He was sure Angel would be all over teasing him about his hands being alllll over him, or even when he discovered that the bartender was also ticklish. But alas, that hadn’t happened. That’s not to say Husk didn’t want to talk about it, don’t get him wrong, but how was he going to say that he enjoyed tickling Angel?!

“How’s it with Al, anyway?” Angel cuts through his thoughts, suddenly. Husk clears his throat.

“Same old. The fucker only calls for me when he needs me to run his errands. Leaves me alone most of the time, though.” Husk grumbled, recalling a time that Alastor had ordered him to fetch some sinner who had apparently tried to run away after their deal with Alastor didn’t work in their favor. What made it all the more infuriating is that Alastor could’ve easily snapped the sinner in front of him in the blink of an eye.

“Huh.” Was all Angel said, in response, but he moved closer to the bartender, eyes blinking blearily and yawning.

“Tired?” Husk asked, yawning himself.

“Mmm.. maybe a little.” Angel mumbled. Husk readjusted his hands, his claws grazing slightly against Angel’s legs. The spider giggled sleepily, causing the cat to chuckle.

“Ticklish too.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t either.”

“Not more than you.” Husk grumbled, his face heating up. It wasn’t as though he could deny it— Angel had figured it out when he decided to tickle him back.

“That may be so..” Angel began, sitting up, looking too smug compared to how exhausted he seemed seconds earlier. “But I’m sure I can still make a kitty purr~”

Suddenly, Husk didn’t like where this was going.

Talk about a cringy line. Purr? “Don’t even think about it.”

“Whaaaat? I’ll be gentle~” Angel traced his finger under Husk’s chin. It was slow and light and unbearingly evil.

“Hhmmp..!” Husk pursed his lips. Angel took this as a sign to keep going as he crept closer to the bartender.

“Sensitive, are we?” Angel smiled, amused. One of his hands went to Husk’s shoulder, almost as though he was interrogating him.

“Shut it, Legs.” Husk grumbled, embarrassed.

“Not denying it, huh?” Angel muttered, chuckling to himself. One of his arms reached over to Husk’s sides, squeezing lightly as the soft fur spread between his fingers. Husk turned away, a crooked smile on his lips, yet no sound came out. Feeling a bit bolder, Angel sat over Husk, so that the bartender’s legs were between his knees. Husk didn’t say anything, though it was likely because he was too busy concealing his reactions.

Angel smirked.

“You are a tough cookie to crack, Kitty. Good thing I like a challenge.” Angel teased, taking his other hand to Husk’s other side, kneading softly. Only a few muffled giggles made it past Husk’s lips. Angel used his third arm, determined to make Husk break, and traced along his neck. He couldn’t deny that the way Husk’s neck clamped down on his fingers was adorable. Husk would probably die if he told him that. So he did. And while he didn’t die, the blush on Husk’s face was more than enough to make up for it.

“S-stohop talking..” Husk groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hm.” Was all Angel said in response, scanning for Husk’s body. It was true Husk seemed pretty sensitive, considering how hard it looked for him to resist laughing, but nowhere he had tried had been enough to break his defenses. So where…

And then, he looked up at Husk’s ears, an idea popping into his head. No way. It couldn’t be.

He took his arms away from Husk’s sides, which had still been methodically tickling him, offering Husk a small chance at relief. Not that it lasted long because a second later, his hands were scritching on Husk’s ears.. similar to how one would pet a cat.

“Hhk!” Was the beginning of it as Husk gave one last effort to resist. Futile, of course. Then, a moment later: “SHIHIHIT!”

“No fuckin’ way! Your ears!?” Angel exclaimed, laughing at the irony and reeling over the fact his idea had worked so much better than he had thought.

“FUHUHUCK OHOFF!” Husk shrieked, flustered out of his mind.

“Just like a kitten! So adorable~ Our one and only bartender taken down by just a few ear scratches.” Angel beamed, very invested in this display. Angel, still scratching his ears, scratched at his tummy. Did cats like belly rubs? One way to find out, he supposed.

Apparently, they do? If Husk’s laughter increasing tenfold was anything to go by. It was sounding a little hysterical, though, and Angel wanted to treat him with the same gentleness that he had received a few nights ago. He eased up on the tickling, only scribbling on one of Husk’s ears. Husk was still ticklish there, but at least he could breathe.

“Ahahangel..”

“Yes~?”

“Youhuhu suhuhuck..” Angel laughed.

“You bet I do.” It was then that Husk realized his words and even while being tickled, the disappointment on his face was clear.

“Nohoho mohohore!” Husk giggled, minutes later, his exhaustion at its peak. The moment he said that, Angel relented, but not before giving him a quick poke to the side. Angel snickered when he jolted.

“Been waiting for this, have you?” Husk grumbled. Angel got off of him, but sat close to him. Their legs were touching.

“Yep. Since you were oh-so kind to grace me with some tickling, shouldn’t you have a taste of it, too?” Angel said, easily.

“Not at all.” Husk rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look nearly as annoyed as he tried to act like. “Next time, it’s going to be you. Again.”

“Next time?” Angel covered his mouth with his hand, chuckling. He assumed Husk was going to backtrack his words because he had just indirectly told him that he was expecting there to be a next time.

Instead, Husk smirked, a sneaky look in his eyes. “Yep. Next time.”

[kairiscorner]

i just want what's best for you. — miles 1610 x reader

summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,045 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello lovely anon !! omg this was really fun to do ngl, I WILL BE SO CRUSHED IF THIS GETS FLOPPED RGHHHHH i will cry bUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, AND SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND PROBABLY OOC RIO, I'M SORRY, I TRIED...........

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

meeting your partners' parents is never easy; it can be fun, if their parents take a liking to you and are amicable--maybe if they see you as family already for them, then you've hit the jackpot. though, in your case, you couldn't be any worse off than that. you did a few things that miles' parents didn't approve of, a few things that didn't settle right with them or made them slightly cautious about you. be it due to how you look, your lifestyle, your manner of speech and nonchalance around them, how you try a little too hard or not enough to get on their good sides--whatever it was, it didn't make them entirely fond of nor trust you, especially with the fact that you were dating their son and they have made it very clear to him: "no dating until you're 25".

they eventually gave in to miles' persuasion that he was 'old enough' to be dating, to be asking you out and going out with you, and being able to spend time with you without having to hide from his parents where he's been and what he's been doing. his father had to vouch for him, after he made miles swear he and you wouldn't be doing anything stupid nor hide anything from them, and though he trusts miles... he has little faith in you, seeing as how you two hardly speak and only exchange nods, glances, and greetings whenever you're around at miles' place. jeff isn't much of a problem for you, though, he's since accepted that his son loves you and that he wants to be with you--but miles' mom, rio, still hasn't come around to that fact.

in complete honesty... every time rio looks at you, you feel like she's glaring at you, staring you down, sometimes outright judging you in her head. miles swears she doesn't mean anything bad with how she looks at you nor how she speaks, even though she may sound dismissive around you. you try to believe miles, even though it does sometimes come off that rio wants nothing between you and her son. but that whole blind fantasy came crashing down around you during dinner one night when rio confronted miles passive-aggressively and a bit subtly on why his grades seemed to be going down and why some nights, he's out of his room when she comes in.

you were going to speak to miles in the kitchen, ask him if he'd like to watch a movie tonight in his room since you two hardly have time for each other these days, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard rio and miles' voices in the kitchen, sounding as if they were arguing over something. you crept close to the doorway, knowing that eavesdropping on their private conversation was wrong, but you wouldn't have stayed if you just didn't hear rio utter your name, followed by: "i don't even know why you picked them, but mijo, i... i have no reason to believe they're not the reason why you're so distracted these days. don't you think that, maybe... they're a bad influence on you?"

a cold stinging feeling shot up your body and spine as you heard rio talk about you like that, with your eyes widening as you realized what she just proposed to miles: she thinks you're a bad influence on her son. miles defended you, however, claiming that he hasn't even been able to see you for days at a time, that you're busy with personal stuff and school--that you aren't a bad influence on him, none of this is your fault. rio tried to hear miles out, but none of it was computing to her; in her eyes, her son was a good boy who couldn't do anything to disappoint her, maybe do a few wrongs here and there, but he'd never let something like a bad performance at school progress, and he would especially quit sneaking out at night after the first few times, right?

"mom, i'm telling you, they're not involved with anything bad, i'm not involved in anything bad! i just... look, i'm..." miles stuttered as he tried to explain to his mother all these anomalous occurrences and his behavior recently, and due to this hesitation, rio's resolve to pin the blame on you had only gotten worse. "mijo, look at me. please, just... tell your mom the truth. i don't want you to get hurt, to jeopardize yourself and your well-being all for some... person you like. what is it you're doing that's distracting you? is it them? it's gotta be them, otherwise you wouldn't–miles! aún no he terminado de hablar, jovencito, vuelve aquí!" rio called after her son as miles had enough and ran off out of the kitchen, feeling frustrated that his own mother couldn't even believe him that neither of you were up to anything bad. if he lied again, she'd be pissed; and if he told her the truth, she'd be even more pissed, it was a lose-lose scenario for him that had no good solution. at least... not one he'd like.

you crept up the stairs and knocked on miles' door, calling out to him in a soft voice. miles opened the door a crack, and once he verified it was indeed you, he opened the door wider and faced you properly. before you could get a word out, he immediately wrapped you in a big hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "man, babe, i'm... oh, am i glad to see you..." he whispered as you hugged him back, a little saddened at what you were about to tell him, about to do to him.

miles pulled away eventually and welcomed you into his room, closing the door behind you two as you he told you could sit down by his bed, as usual. you hesitantly sat down next to him, tensing up a little as you took your seat on his plush bed. he looked over at you with concern tinting his eyes; he reached out for you as you looked down to the floor, away from him. "hey, babe... what's wrong? did i do something, did something... happen?" he asked you as he brushed away the stray hairs on your forehead as you looked at him with sadness filling your frame. you breathed a sigh of reluctance as you fidgeted with your fingers, feeling that if you did this, you'd be doing him and his parents a favor--but on the other hand, you'd be crushing him to bits.

you took in a deep breath and finally exhaled after holding it in for a bit as you gazed back at him, with miles looking at you so anxiously and murmuring if you were alright, if he could do anything to help, but... this was all that could be done now. "miles... you can't be dating me anymore. i'm sorry, it's... my fault." you said in a quieted voice, though the way you said it sounded very vague, miles still felt incredibly crushed and confused by what you meant that 'it was your fault'.

a look of hurt dashed his face as he brought his hand upon yours and reassured you that, no, whatever you meant, it couldn't have been your fault. he tried to comfort you and help you realize that whatever was going on between you two, he'd make up for it. "is it... is it because we aren't able to, y'know, to... be together all the time? is that it...?" he asked you nervously as you shook your head, still looking away from him. miles heaved a little as he tried to calm himself down, rationalize first what could've been the reason why you wanted to suddenly break up with him after he just defended you in front of his mother without you knowing... or... or did you?

how could you explain to miles that a breakup isn't something you wanted, but felt was best for... well, not for you two, but for his parents to quit getting on his case? you didn't hate his parents, not one bit, you understood their concerns if you were in their shoes–but you didn't know what else to do, you couldn't stand seeing miles get chewed out by his own mother for your sake. you sighed as you tried to hold back your tears, as your throat flared up as you kept your sob in and shook your head. "it has nothing to do with you, miles. like i said, it's... it's my fault. i'm sorry, look, i don't... i don't think i'm good enough for you." you tried telling him without breaking down right then and there as miles kept getting his heart pierced in every which way with every word you uttered.

miles tried to understand, but most of all, he kept rambling to you how you both could make it work, he'll be there–it isn't... whatever happened between you two, it isn't your fault. miles teared up a little as he kept holding on to your hand, but his tears finally fell when you let go of his hand and got up to leave. "wait, love–!" he called out for you as you opened the door and, surprise-surprise, his mother was there by the door, listening in on you two with a sad expression.

you yelped when you saw her, with her yelping as well–miles yelped at the both of you yelping, and rio had to tell you both to calm down... no one need to break up with anybody. "i came to say that... that i'm sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry i've been so cold to you." she said as she looked at you with guilt and remorse in her eyes and tone. she sighed as she leaned against the doorway and looked away from the two of you.

"i don't hate you, i'm just... scared, is all. i'm worried you won't love my boy as much as you say you can, because... i can't control either of you, i can't know what you both do at all times, especially you, miles." she said as she pointed at miles, with miles looking at her with a confused gaze. rio sighed again as she walked over to you and looked up at your eyes, placing her hand on your chin to get you to look at her square in the face.

"i'm sorry if i made it seem like... it was your fault my son hasn't been honest with me–" she said as she shot miles an angry look, "–but you have no fault in this. i'm sorry, just, mother instincts got out of hand." she apologized as you smiled and nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales..." you said as she smiled. "you know, i kinda like you a little better now. 'mrs. morales', finally..." she said with a smile as you chuckled, with rio telling miles he can still be with you and go out with you if he promises never to sneak out anymore and to get those grades back up.

miles nodded as he told his mom he has to talk to you, alone. "okay, but no locked doors–" "yeah, yeah, got it mom!" miles called out from behind the door as he closed it on her. you rubbed the back of your neck as miles looked down at the ground, the both of you feeling really awkward but pretty relieved at the same time with how that 'breakup' between you two was very short lived.

miles cleared his throat as he began to speak, but you rushed up and hugged him, murmuring how glad you are that you didn't have to leave him. miles reciprocated your hug and whispered back to you he'd never let anybody–not even his own parents–get in the way of him loving you dearly. he was just glad his mom, though very slowly–started to realize you weren't a distraction to him, but someone he cared about.

he understands all she wants is the best for him, but... maybe now was the time he decided what was best for him on his own, and that'd be with you by his side, letting him love you wholeheartedly.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

[zolass]

ㅤㅤ 𝗔 𝗟𝗲𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

ㅤ···─A LEISURE MORNING with EMIL LANDORR

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter by @yanderefarm

Summary: After an eventful night, the morning after seemed to be the perfect plum cherry on top. wc: 600+

tags: taller! M reader, fluff, needy Emil, OOC Emil, mentions of sex and murder, +

Note: I find myself currently rather intrigued currently with the characters from yanderefarm, and even though I like yandere characters, I'm so bad at writing them so- if the creator of the characters sees this I'm sry bc Emil is so going to be ooc.

Just a small scenario TvT

Anyways hope y'all enjoy, also if you don't know yanderefarm check him out.

A sneeze woke Emil up from his slumber, his eyes were still closed as he snuggled closer to the warmth that wrapped around his naked body. With a sigh he pressed his face against the warmth before he slowly blinked his eyes open, a warm feeling swirled in his chest as your sleeping figure came into his view. 

He trailed his finger lazily over your chest, his wrist in the gentle grasp of your hand. A smile played on his lips as he continued to watch you sleep, suddenly he remembers that it wasn’t always this peaceful, at the beginning you hated him. Mostly because of the way he even got you on his side as his husband, it was a cruel way and it took a long time to get where the two of you are now.

But he would do it again, but maybe a bit differently. Instead of trying to marry your sister, he would rather take your hand in an instant. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the thumb that caressed his naked back, his cat-like pink eyes looked up at your face. A small smile played on your lips as well, while your tired eyes were focused on the smaller male in your arm.

And by the gods, he could melt into a puddle on the spot, by the way you were looking at him with affection. “Awake already, pretty?” you asked, with your voice laced with tiredness. Emil only hummed, “Yea– but it’s not as bad when one is greeted by such a nice view,” he responded, while placing his chin on your chest.

You put your head back into the soft pillows, before you rubbed your eyes while a yawn left your mouth. Emil placed kisses on your chest, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the tickling sensation.

With a swift movement, Emil found himself on his back, while your arms caged him in. The blonde had to bite his lip at the display of your naked body, a few years back you somehow managed to convince Emil to let you train with the soldiers, and since then you’ve bulked up a bit.

Of course he soon figured out it wasn’t a bad idea, as he could watch you train, the way your muscles would move beneath your skin and of course, the way you manhandle him now during sex, was another big plus point for both of you. His eyes focused on the gauze wrapped around your arm, you’ve gotten slightly distracted, giving your opponent in training the momentum to strike. You were able to jump back, but the sword still grazed your arm.

If you weren’t there to hold Emil back, the man's life would’ve been decreased to nothing. But still a bit of anger broodled inside of Emil, but the way he was so worried about you, even though it was basically a scratch, the teary eyes of your husband squeezed your heart.

That’s how you ended up with a long rough night, getting Emil’s mind off of the previous event. 

You watched as Emil caressed your bandaged arm with utmost care, scared to hurt you. With a small smile on your lips, you leaned down and captured the lips of the blonde with your own. A slow passionate kiss, quickly clouded his mind, before you pulled back with a smile.

“What can I do, to get your mind off of these things, hm pretty?” you asked, even if it was rather obvious, by the way his pink eyes widened ever so slightly before a smile played on his lips. His fingers trailed from your chest downwards, “how about– another round?” Emil whispered, his eyes locked with yours. 

You leaned down and kissed his nose, “I can’t possibly say no to that,” you said, before your hands placed themselves on his hips, and so you continued the activity from just a few hours ago.

By the end of it, Emil couldn’t feel his legs and was bedridden, yet he couldn’t complain as you took your day off of training, to pamper him.

[random-yandere-fandom]

Hi, this was inspired by the Goddess Elizabeth and TC Meliodas yandere headcanons and I was wondering if I could please request slightly dark headcanons for a Zeldris/Gelda pairing who are yandere for an S/O who is either human or a goddess?

Let's hope I have the motivation to finish writing this

I decided to make the reader a goddess since that would add some more drama. Also I tried to make it darker than my usual writing but don't really know if i succeeded... Also, characters might be Ooc

Yandere Zeldris and Gelda sharing a Goddess S/O

This is one of the best yandere pairings I can imagine. They harmonize so well and with their shared goal of protecting and owning you, this would be an almost wholesome relationship.

Almost, because the political climate makes it pretty much impossible for it to be a simple and happy romance.

I picture this with Zeldris and Gelda already being together, as otherwise Gelda has zero chance of actually meeting you long enough to grow as fond of you as she does. The two of them already have enough trouble, hiding their relationship and subsequently pretending to be nothing but strangers, even when they are as close as can be.

So Gelda quickly notices when Zeldris has something on his mind, stares off into the distance and doesn't react as quickly as usual. She will narrow her eyes and lean close enough that their noses brush against each other, causing the demon to snap out of his thoughts and grow extremely flustered. He won't be able to hide anymore and will have to confess to having met you on the battlefield and that there is something about you that doesn't quite let him forget about you like he usually does with his enemies.

At first, Gelda doesn't know how to react. Scratch that, she knows exactly that she is pissed off. Though, seeing her lover being more confused on why he can't get you off his mind will slightly placate her, especially since Zeldris will feel guilty and apologize unprompted for even thinking off you. While she will scold him, it will mainly be for not telling her first thing. The vampire is rather wary of you though, perhaps you have a strange power to you or her lover sensed that there is something off about you that could turn out to be dangerous.

That opinion of hers changes quite quickly though. It is rare that the demon king sends a vampire to the front lines, yet Gelda finds herself in the middle of the battlefield, some lower demons alongside her as they scout the perimeter. Perhaps he has grown suspicious of her and Zeldris and this is a warning, she muses, but she can't think much of that now as she has to focus on being on enemy territory.

It is thanks to her quick senses that she manages to dodge the sudden attack directed at the small group. She barely makes it out of range only to find herself getting dragged behind some trees. Before she can retaliate someone gently shushes her and she catches gaze of her savior. You. You gesture for her to listen and she hears some other goddesses talking about having killed the entire group and it doesn't take a genius to realize you are protecting her. Gelda remains tense until they leave. You explain that she was the only one to survive the initial attack and that you, admittedly, thought this war stupid and didn't want more blood on your hands. Even if you had just been relaxing nearby, you couldn't watch someone being slaughtered like that. What really catches the blonde off guard is that you seem remorseful for the death of the demons accompanying her and somehow... your naive and yet so sweet reactions make her want to tease you.

Once she returns she is quick to discuss that meeting with Zeldris and quickly they realize that they have met the same person. From then on it isn't hard for either of them to admit that they want to get to know you better and they are quick to agree to do this together.

Zeldris will be the one you mainly interact with and mostly on the battlefield, so getting closer to you is imaginably hard. Yet, he somehow manages to get your name and more personal information, which he later eagerly shares with Gelda.

A few months of this and it is decided: the two of them want you with them. Seeing however that they have to operate in secret they come up with various plans that are just as quickly dismissed. Lucky are they when other demons catch you as a war prisoner and even luckier are they when Zeldris manages to get his hands on you.

The demon has a good reputation and it doesn't take much to make it look like you died in captivity, just another death that could have been avoided but wasn't.

In truth, you find yourself bound up in a small cave, Gelda greeting you as you open your eyes with a pounding headache and something so desperately wrong with you as you can't move your body, can't even lift a finger as your vision remains blurry. You barely hear it when the vampire explains the situation to you, that you will slowly regain your bearings and that you don't have to be afraid. You don't hear her expressing her apologies for how rough they had to get to have you or hear Zeldris when he arrives to make sure you are as fine as the situation allows it.

Over the next few days, they will give you time to adjust to your surroundings, feed and take care of you as you slowly regain the control of your body. To your horror, your wings remain limp, the once blinding white feathers now a light grey that lost their shine. Dread fills you as Gelda explains that they didn't want to risk you escaping and Zeldris has the guts to look a bit ashamed for taking their mobility from you.

Don't mistake their light bantering among the two of them and the gentleness they show you, they are not above fully ridding you of your wings or anything else they deem a threat to their ownership of you.

It's been so long since I have been written something a bit longer like this. I'm not totally satisfied with how it turned out, but it feels great all the same.

[sushiwriterhere]

right where i want you

summary: "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader word count: 6.1k warnings: sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n.  notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dog🗣😼 i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horse’s coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasn’t changed a thing, it seems. 

“Rhett Abbott you leave me alone or I’ll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.” You don’t even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean he’ll leave. He won’t. And he never does.

“How’d ‘ya know it was me?” You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know that’s what he wants.

You still don’t turn around to face him. “Because y’never leave me alone.” 

“I’m jus’ sweet on ‘ya. Couldn’t help it if I tried. Besides, missed ‘ya while ‘ya were away at that fancy east coast school o’ yours.”

“Well, have you tried?” You ignore the second part of what he said–you’re back for the summer, and you really haven’t been gone all that long even if your parents act like you’ve come back from the dead.

That pulls a laugh from him. 

For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabang’s sheriff didn’t seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around. 

“Nope,” He lets his lips pop dramatically on the ‘p’ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, “Plus, you’re real cute when you’re mad.”

All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush you’ve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression he’s wearing in that moment because it’s the same one he’s had every other time he’s taunted you. 

“Decide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastin’ my time.” You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though. 

“Aw, don’t get too upset now,” He pushes himself off the stall door he’d been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.

You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If he’s ever going to leave you alone.

“I didn’t come by to bother ‘ya, honest.” He murmurs.

You don’t grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.

“I wanted to see if you’d come out tonight, everyone’s been missin’ ‘ya. Whole town’s in uproar that you’re back.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.

You’re loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhett’s always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while you’d been away is not part of your calculus.

-

For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. He’s a liar and you’re a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofa—

You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhett’s eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde who’s grasping the collar of his flannel. 

In missing Rhett’s gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time you’re in the parking lot, it’s too late to turn around. James is between you and the door. 

He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, “Wait up!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You really don’t want to deal with him right now, you don’t want to deal with any men, for that matter. 

“I said wait.” His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. There’s nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and you’re certain he won’t just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.

“Now that you’re back, I’m going to take you out to dinner.” James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you haven’t lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states. 

You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriends–always holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. There’s nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.

“No, thank you, James. I really should get going.” You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that he’ll change his mind. 

You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough. 

His demeanor switches in an instant.

“You think just ‘cause you’re the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swoonin’ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.” The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, “Why I ought’a teach you a lesson.”

When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, you’re outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.

Instead of James’ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhett’s voice breaks the moment, “Earl, I’ll make ‘ya sorry ‘ya ever look’d at ‘er if ‘ya don’t step away right now.” 

There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. You’d call him your savior if you don’t blame him somehow; if he hadn’t been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldn’t be here. 

“Like hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.” James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.

You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots. 

They soil your plan for a hasty escape. It’s Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second they’re yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on James’ face and you aren’t sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not. 

“Stop it!” You try to at least get Rhett’s attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. “Rhett Abbott you fool, get off’a him!”

All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. You’re standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; there’s blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhett’s. Suddenly they’re being pulled apart.

You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, “You ever try that shit with me again I’ll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.”

His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like he’s considering spitting in your face, “Still hiding behind your daddy? Figures.”

He’s hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but he’s simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No one’s restraining him anymore, they’re all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that it’s just the two of you in the parking lot at that point. 

You make your decision in an instant, “Give me your keys.” 

You don’t get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesn’t move. 

“Rhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.” 

He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, “Tryin’ to take me home, sugar?”

Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You don’t check if he’s following you, some part of you knows you don’t need to. 

You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. It’s deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you. 

As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when he’d bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbott’s was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies. 

You’d watched the chaos from afar until he’d lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. You’d looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didn’t like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.

He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldn’t even let them touch the keys.

Now here you are, driving his truck like it’s your own without a single complaint from him. 

When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way you’d gotten in–without a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. It’s almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that he’s inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming. 

Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, “Now why’d ‘ya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?”

Rhett looks like he’s just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You don’t miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. There’s a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks. 

“I’m the one startin’ shit? He was tryin’ somethin’ with you!” He takes a step toward you but you don’t move, “Earl’s a piece of shit and he got what was comin’ to him. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“I had it handled.” Your defense is instinctual–knee jerk, even—everyone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and you’re sick of it. 

“Did ‘ya?” You’re toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. “‘Cause what I saw said somethin’ else.”

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible. 

“I’m not arguin’ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean ‘ya up.” 

For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. You’ve turned on one of the living room lights, but there’s still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earl’s nose and cheeks. 

“Now keep bein’ all tough, I better not hear ‘ya bitchin’ about the antiseptic hurtin’.” You don’t have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle. 

He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he won’t be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.

He doesn’t comment on your position at his knees. 

“Earl’s nose better be fuckin’ broken.” Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands. 

You don’t grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

When you return to him, he hasn’t moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden you’re kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like he’s holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.

“I need to make sure he didn’t break yours.” It’s a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he won’t call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones. 

He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; it’s uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasn’t worn them in a long while. 

Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if he’s trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesn’t grip them, doesn’t let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.

“Looks fine to me.” You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He’s trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only he’s breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.

You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because they’re a man and you’re not. But with Rhett, you can tell you’ve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress. 

Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. It’s silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. He’s so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.

Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. He’s like a foal in the way you’re unsure of how he’ll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.

He doesn’t bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. You’re not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.

“Are you going to behave, Rhett?” Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.

He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way he’s hard against you. 

He likes it. He likes the way you’ve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isn’t fighting you, he isn’t arguing–for once in his life, he’s quiet in your presence. 

The realization of how obedient he’s being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what you’d done to him the night before.

“You’ve spent all this time pullin’ my pigtails, and now that I’m here you can’t even form words.” He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.

You want to hate him. 

Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way he’s spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

“Whatever,” His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, “Whatever you want, sugar. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“And if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?” You aren’t going to make this easy on him. 

Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, you’re not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. You’re grateful he was there, you are. But you didn’t need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.

“Now, sugar, I find it hard to believe—”

You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand that’s leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that you’d actually get up and leave. 

“Try again.” You don’t change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.

“Whatever you want, goes.” He swallows slowly before speaking again, “Will you just–Will you please sit back down?” 

He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.

You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, “Does this turn you on, Rhett?” You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, “Not much of a big, bad, man now, are ‘ya?”

To your surprise, that doesn’t set him off. Most men wouldn’t let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly. 

“Like I said, whatever you want, sugar–I just want ‘ya to use me. Be good for something,” He licks his lips and exhales shakily, “Be good for you.” 

Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesn’t waver for a single moment. 

Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. They’ve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhett’s eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap. 

“So this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?” You’re goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what he’ll let you get away with. 

With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isn’t hiding, not in the slightest.

Now that you’re this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that he’s so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you don’t hate Rhett Abbott. 

In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether he’s around or not. When you’d gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. You’d half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.

(What you don’t know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. He’d looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time you’d rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, “fuck off”.)

“Can I kiss ‘ya?” His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like it’s a nervous habit. 

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, “That’s not what I meant and y’know it.”

Finally, you press your lips to his. They’re soft and warm and he’s so much better of a kisser than everyone else you’ve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp. 

You don’t expect it to feel so good. It’s one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, it’s a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You can’t stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly. 

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined,” He sighs, pushing up against the hand that’s still around his throat. 

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off, Rhett.” You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.

But it seems he’s given up the fight now that you’re right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesn’t matter.”

Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that he’s got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You could’ve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never would’ve occurred to you that this is how he’d be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.

You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.

The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand won’t stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. It’s mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck. 

“Cum for me, sugar,” Then, as if he’s anticipating your chastisement, he adds, “Please.”

Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize you’re chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesn’t let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating. 

“Fuck, Jesus,” He gasps, and after a moment, “I’ll be thinking ‘bout that til I die,” He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours. 

You want to tease him about taking the Lord’s name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, it’s quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that he’s still hard under you, but he isn’t making any moves to change that. 

He starts to shift under you like he’s considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him. 

“Ah ah, I’m not finished with you yet,” His eyes snap to yours in surprise.

“Rhett Abbott. Tellin’ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?” You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, “Prove it.”

Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesn’t stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him. 

“Can I–Can I keep going?” He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, “Like it when it, ah, when it hurts.”

God, this is what you’ve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls he’s been with do this to him. But something tells you that isn’t the case–you really don’t want it to be.

The whines and gasps he’s letting out as he’s writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. You’re only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch. 

It’s terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.

“What are you playin’ at?” You can’t help but settle back into your old ways–the Rhett Abbott you’ve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way he’s looking at you sets you off kilter. 

When he laughs at the way you’re starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, “Knock it off, Rhett. You’re bein’ an asshole.”

But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, “You’re so beautiful.”

As if anticipating the way you’re going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. It’s nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time it’s something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way. 

“I hate you, Rhett Abbott,” You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesn’t have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used to–this time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him. 

He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he might’ve figured it out too–that you don’t hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.

You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way he’s staring at you expectantly. 

He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. He’s a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that you’ll disturb the moment somehow.

The shower proceeds without a hitch. It’s oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that he’s still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if he’d done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.

When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after you’ve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?

Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, “You always smell so good, I spent ages tryin’ to figure out which one you were usin’. Just bought all of ‘em at some point.”

You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You don’t have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him. 

“It’s this one.” 

The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if he’ll ever stop making you feel like that–simultaneously like a trapped animal and like you’re the only girl he’s ever seen. You wonder if this (there’s a ‘this’?) will last long enough for you to find out.

He lends you one of his shirts and you’re pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.

“You’re a vision for a blind man, sugar,” His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, “Now come to bed.”

It’s something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. You’re immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you don’t fight him.

“You okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.” His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.

Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. There’s barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.

“I don’t think I hate you.” 

He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that he’s laughing.

“I’m sorry, sugar, c’mere,” He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, “I’m not laughin’ at you, I’m laughin’ only ‘cause I never hated you. I don’t really think you hated me either.”

“Hey!” You’re indignant, “Rhett Abbott, who’re you to tell me how I feel?”

“Alright, alright, sugar, I’ll take ‘yer word for it. My heroics do it for ‘ya?” You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.

“The way you almost got the snot beat outta ‘ya? Sure.” Scoffing, you turn yourself over so you’re facing away from him again, only you don’t move out of his arms. 

He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. You’re not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. You’ll just have to see.

[p1nk-syr1nge]

Chemical Reaction

Sun x Reader

| Reader is cleaning out a storage closet for Sun, and accidentally mixes chemicals oh noo!! CW// Blood, chemicals

this is definitely OOC, but it’s my first time actually writing him,, critique is appreciated heheh. Also if u have more Sun requests lmkkk!!

sorry i’ve been gone for so long! i’ve been immensely busy with no motivation to write, but i’m probably gonna write a bit for DCA <:3

You trudged off into the little storage room, exasperated as you drag the cart of cleaning supplies along with you. The cart was supposed to be helpful and make it easier, however the one janky wheel decided it would give you hell today. That is just what you needed, MORE unhelpful mechanicals.

You were grateful that it was just a cart, non sentient and motionless. So you didn’t giving it a harsh kick to the side in a bout of frustration. It didn’t ease the anger though, making it worse as your foot throbbed with pain, making you spew a string of curses. 

Quickly glancing around to make sure no children heard it, or that freakish jester.

Surely if he heard it, he would somehow manage to find a way to make this more difficult for you. It didn’t matter, the Daycare was going to close soon anyways.

After you finally managed to haul the cart into the supply closet, you swiftly closed it. So that way maybe, just maybe, it’d quiet down that wretched jingle on loop. Maybe that’s why Sun is this way, that song was enough to make ANYONE insane.

It was awful and horribly managed in the closet. Stains, dust, everything out of place. Is that black mold?

No matter, you quickly grabbed the supplies, spraying the harsh cleaning fluids. Switching bottles in hand to what you felt was appropriate to the task. This was easy, and honestly you liked it better than watching kids.

Not like Sun would ever let you anyways. Which was stupid to you. You were the Daycare Assistant. Not the Daycare Sit-There-Until-I-Need-You-To-Clean-Something-That-I-Can’t-Immediately-Get-To. If you wanted to do that, you’d apply as janitor. And you didn’t. 

Something something “incompetent”, something something, “no experience”. As if, you’ve been around kids before. You’re GREAT at… scolding them… and putting them in timeout…

Hm. Perhaps Sun kind of had a point, but you’d also never give him that satisfaction of admitting it. He was rude, and passive aggressive, patronizing even. He hated staff. To an extent you knew why, but you’ve still been trying to be on your best behavior. It felt almost like a lost cause, if he just put his guard down for one second, you could get along. 

You and Sun could be friends! Or at the very least, not enemies. Baby steps.

God, what were you even thinking?

You rubbed at your eyes, they burned and itched. So did your throat. Allergies must’ve been acting up…

You paid no mind to it. Continuing your scrubbing, listening whatever was going on the other side of the closet door. 

You could hear Sun wave off the last few kids as they leave with their parents. You suppressed the building up need to cough, opting for the convenient clearing of throat that scratches the itch just slightly. Though it just wasn’t enough for forever.

The second it becomes almost unbearable to suppress, the closet is opened up wide and suddenly.

The animatronic’s looming shadow is deathly still as he takes in the scene for a moment. You could hear his voice box mustering some kind of shrill shriek, or a gasp, or even a mix of the two? Whatever it was, it was not that of joy. 

Quickly, he snatched you up, hurrying to anywhere else away from the closet. He seems a bit frantic, looking around for a moment and goes to place you in a corner of folded blankets and huge stack of pillows.

“Sun, I’m not done cleaning the—“

“Are you silly in the head? Do you want to get hurt??” his voice was shrilly and panicked. 

“What did I even do?!” You huffed, trying to stand up and slide off the mountain of cushions. Though, your feet hit the floor and you were instantly dizzy, almost nauseous. The itch that lingered in the back of your throat grew and grew. His hands were on you again, picking you up just to put you back on top. 

You swatted at his hands to no avail. 

“Do you even have a sliver of self preservation, friend?” You stared at him for a moment, eyes watering. Not from him yelling at you, but from you trying not to choke and hack in his face. “No ventilation, so, so, SO careless! I can’t leave you alone for one second without some horrible accident!”

Still, you’re confused, you don’t understand what he’s trying to get at, or barely anything at all with how dizzy you are. Though the second he sticks his finger out accusingly and jabs at your chest, the coughing fit you’ve been holding off ensues. Your reaction time is off and before you can bring your hand up to cover your mouth it’s all over sun’s face.

Blood splatters onto his faceplate and he’s deathly still.

“Agh! Sun! Sorry, sorry!!” You scrambled, trying to look for anything to wipe up the crimson mess, the dusty rag you had in your pocket. You stuttered out millions of “sorry”s a second. For a moment he was still standing rigid, though he quickly got himself out of the daze, moving quickly to hold you still once more.

If he didn’t hate you before, spitting up blood in his face would certainly do the trick.

“You need to breathe, Friend,” he shook you a bit.

“It was an accident I promise!”

“Duh! I didn’t think you were smart enough to make chlorine gas on purpose!” He said, his voice a bit too cheery for that, flicking your forehead.

“…chlorine…?” You could only stare. His mechanical equivalent of a sigh came and he took the rag from your hand to finish what you started. When you looked down and it really caught up to you that you coughed up blood, you even really considered what was even happening.

Ohh… in all your mindless cleaning, you must’ve mixed chemicals, stuck in a little closet with no air flow, inhaling that was certainly not good for you. Had you been in there any longer it could’ve been fatal.

“Sorry… again,” a sheepish smile was given, in hopes to compensate for that ordeal. Sun only returned a head tilt full of pity.

“Perhaps you should stay off cleaning duty until I can properly teach you what to use,” he mused. “Unless you don’t mind wiping the playscape top to bottom with baby wipes.”

You gave him a strained smile, not wanting to seem too enthusiastic nor against it. Knowing he absolutely would make you do such a thing if he was having a particularly bad day.

All in all, you just got a scolding, and he wouldn’t let you even think about getting up. Any time you tried was fruitless, led to him just pushing you back down. It was past your shift time, and they weren’t paying you overtime.

He did give you a blanket though, that was nice. Nicer than he’s ever really been. You got the bare minimum. It was embarrassing how giddy you felt inside for some general kindness.

You honestly wanted to pull your teeth out after he asked you how you were feeling. Though with your pathetic “fine,” he clearly wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t seem to care enough to prod. You were fine enough, and anymore attention from him would’ve made you feel ten times worse. 

Fortunately you had managed to get a little nap in. Though it was cut short with Sun practically dragging you out before the lights went out. You were too drowsy and sickly to even consider looking back right now.

However, a part of you wanted to think that maybe he cared even a little about your wellbeing, regardless if it was purely his programming or not. 

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: If someone had told you an hour ago that Vil and Rook would attempt breaking into Ramshackle, drunk out of their minds, you would have laughed and waved off their words. Well, that was what you would have thought an hour ago.

Pairing: Rook x Gn!Yuu/Prefect/Reader x Vil

Genre: Fluff

TW: Underage drinking, mentions of being very drunk, Rook and Vil are most definitely ooc (cause they're drunk)

A.N: For the record, I am not trying to encourage underage drinking. That is not my intention. I just had a funny story told to me by my aunt that inspired this. Again, not trying to encourage underage drinking or heavy drinking (drink responsibly and only after you come of age please).

If someone had told you an hour ago that Vil and Rook would attempt breaking into Ramshackle, drunk out of their minds, you would have laughed and waved off their words.

After all, Rook would never willingly compromise himself by drinking to the point where he couldn't walk without stumbling. He was a hunter; his sharp senses were his pride, and alcohol muddles the senses, rendering them dull. The idea of such loss of control over his actions may be a bit tempting, but you knew he wouldn't be as irresponsible as to have alcohol on a school night.

The same could be said for Vil. He was comfortable with showing you and Rook more of his natural and less put-together side, but he would not exactly let himself be drunk to the point where he slurred his words, each syllable melting into the next as he attempted to communicate with you. Not just to keep his dignified and elegant image, but also because of how horrible the hangover on the next day would be for him (he was a lightweight who learned it the hard way after getting into his father's special alcohol stash one day).

Well, that was what you would have thought an hour ago.

You sighed as you looked at the two boys who had all but broken the door to Ramshackle down. The pounding on the door (courtesy of Rook, who was also saying something that sounded like an essay in French as he stood outside your dorm) had woken you up from where you had fallen asleep completing assignments. You could still remember Grim's confused "Mrah?!" as he walked over and opened the front door for the two, bolting upstairs when the stink of alcohol became too much for his poor sensitive nose to bear.

Somehow, you had managed to bring the two inside, to the guest room, where they were both sprawled in a messy heap of limbs on a couch. It would have been a little cute, had they not been absolutely hammered beyond belief.

"Mon cher Trickster~" Rook hummed, eyes sly and captivating even as they drooped from the influence of alcohol. "Come nearer, and allow me... allow me the privilege of... basking in your glory..."

His voice was smooth and silky, and if it weren't for the way you saw him struggle like a newborn fawn just moments ago, you would have believed him to still be somewhat sober.

Vil, meanwhile, was just staring up at you with an awe-struck look on his face, eyes wide and shiny. Cheeks warm and a soft red from whatever he drank, he seemed content to just watch you as you stood in front of them wondering what to do. You looked over their appearance. Both the Pomefiore boys looked as beautiful as ever, even with their very obviously inebriated actions and reactions.

"What did you two drink? And how much?" You asked Rook, crouching slightly to reach his eye level. Rook scrunched his nose, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to remember; meanwhile your eyes focused on the freckles that had begun making their appearance after hours of being hidden beneath makeup.

"Apple... juice," Rook said, head tilting towards you as he answered your question. "Just... apple juice," Vil agreed, words mixing in his mouth even as he answered you with all the seriousness of a five year old trying to tell his mother that he had not had any cookies before dinner.

"You two don't seem like you had just apple juice though," you hummed, holding back a smile as Vil pouted at your words. Before he could voice any protests, you lightly patted his head, running your fingers through the silky blonde strands. Vil melted under your tender touch, eyes closing in bliss as he rested his head on Rook's chest.

"Stay," you ordered him, much in the way Crewel would with his students, but with a marked gentleness to your tone. Vil nodded, watching you with half-lidded eyes as you tried to make them more comfortable on the couch. Coaxing Rook to get up just a little for you to slip a pillow under his head, getting one of the blankets Vil had gotten especially for you, he watched you do every little thing to make their impromptu sleepover more comfortable for them.

Rook had fallen asleep by the time you finished making arrangements for the two of them to sleep somewhat comfortably. While you would have preferred to get them to your room and on an actual bed, they did not seem to be in any condition to climb the rickety stairs Ramshackle was famous for.

Ruffling Rook and Vil's hair one last time, you turned to move... only to be held back by a hand closing around your wrist. Your eyes trailed down your arm, an amused expression on your face as you saw Vil holding onto you.

"Yes, Vil?"

"Stay," Vil mirrored your words from before, the softly uttered command lacking the impact it otherwise would have had on you. Dewy eyes looked up at you, and a gentle "Please.." slipped through his lips, tugging at your heart strings the way he was tugging at your wrist.

You chuckled and acquiesced, sitting down in front of the couch with your wrist still in his grasp. Moving Rook's hand out of the way, you laid your head on the edge of the couch, looking into amethyst eyes. Eyes that softened with sleep and contentment as he watched you settle down near the two of them.

He stubbornly tried to remain awake, even as his eyelids kept drooping in protest. You, who had already had quite a restful nap (thanks to Professor Trein's homework) kept watching him in thinly veiled amusement and adoration for a few minutes, before speaking to him in a gentle tone. "You should go to sleep Vil. It's late."

A petulant pout was directed at you, and you resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks. "Come on, you need to sleep. It's important for a healthy and glowing skin, y'know," you hummed, using his own words (that he used nearly everyday for you) for him. His eyelids drooped even lower at the warmth in your voice, yet he stubbornly kept looking at you.

"I'm not going anywhere, Vil. I promise."

Finally, the male seemed satisfied with what you said. At least, that's what you figured from the way his eyes fully closed and remained closed, his breathing gradually slowing down as he fell into a deep sleep.

Your hand was still held in his. While his grip had loosened in his sleep... you did promise to stay.

Well, there were more uncomfortable places and positions you could have slept in.

[simptiara]

Valentine's day with yandere! Chigiri Hyoma

class fight - Melanie Martinez

Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody

We were in the playground, things were getting muddy

The teacher broke us up after I broke her

And my one true love called me a monster~~

TW: Chigiri being so ooc, stalking, Chigiri being slightly sadistic?, Chigiri beating someone up, use of abuse, eruption of anger, one sided crush, reader has feelings for other person, Chigiri likes to eliminate his opponents by beating them to death by fist, idk what to write anymore

*before bluelock, gn!reader goes to same school as him but different class and can put any character of your choice in (random name) space

•Imagine him waking up smiling ear to ear, filled with anticipation and excitement for the day ahead even though he stayed up late night thinking how'd he approach his crush.

•Giving you the chocolate he poured his heart in, specially made for you with all his love, the box is also carefully crafted with attention to detail.

•It's the atleast the easiest thing he could do for you, infact he would do anything for you, no matter the cost. His adoration for you knows no bounds, he hangs on your every word that he overheard, gazes at you with stars in his eyes, and would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked.

•Ever since when the life changing accident happened(his ACL) it was like a end of his reason to continue on living. He seems like don't really mind about that on the outside, keeping tough play but in the inside it was a pure mess. Plus those Wanima brothers were real irksome shits, on his already struggling self they are here to eat him with words.

•Thinking about the harsh words he heard from them, he was barely on verge of tears while finally managed to sit on the stairs where the students doesn't usually use. Sniffling, letting put silent frustrated huffs when a faint footsteps heard from his behind, him turning around to see your taken aback expression, probably from seeing someone like him in this state.

•"Must be tough. Shits happen right? But don't give up tho." awkwardly stating these words as you give him a stiff thumbs up, leaving him alone immediately. It left the one who was about to cry earlier in wonderstruck, somehow he found it cutesy that you suck at comforting people and it was apperant from your gesture towards him.

•That's how you draw his interest immediately, later then when he gets to know you were a new transfer student, running into you in school halls (but you don't even bat an single glance at him), soon it led him to get utterly devoted to you, the point where he couldn't get you out of his mind.

•Watching you silently from afar, driven even more head over heels for you, for your simple manner, unique characteristics. You stole his heart wholly in the meantime, now he just had to win yours.

•His crimson irises watched you walk into school as soon as you step in, he rushed to go after you. Being the first one to give you the chocolate along with confessing all the words he rehearsed last night, it's the day he has been longing since forever.

•But...someone already in front of you, in front of his love, well soon-to-be-his-love but who cares, seeing someone other with you is painful to his eyes. That person's face is beetroot red, hands shaking uncontrollably while holding the chocolate to you, avoiding from your eyes shyly which you softly chucked at, probably adoring their behavior he thought.

•In reality you were just in a awkward state, chuckled to not to seem so rude or stiff.

•"The fuck?" cursing under his breath, Chigiri almost crushed the box of chocolates in the grip that he wished to be around that person's throat.

•Who the fuck is that nobody to earn your attention on them so easily?

•You accepted the chocolate gracefully, tried to give them a appreciated smile when they seem to get even more shy, covering their face as ran away from you, leaving you stood dumbpounded after them.

•It bothered the pinkish-red haired individual this little that he just wanted to have a small talk with that person.

•The small talk he mean is, approach them in friendly manner and ask them if they have a minute to spare(make sure to ask it while no one's around if not, it'll be a trouble later). Then brought them to a corner outside the school where the smokers usually hang around since there is no CCTV while keeping the conversation normal to prevent them from suspecting things.

•No people in sight, perfect area. Perfect area to lung at them and beat that shit outta with his all might, turning them into bloody pulp, face fucked up too bad to can't even form a single word out.

•He wanted to be the one to confess his undying feelings for you, wanted to be the first to make you taste the chocolates that is full of his love, WANTED TO BE THE ONLY ONE FOR YOU.

•He could feel the satisfaction building inside of him to the sound of fist hitting flesh echoid through the empty alleyway, each contact with the bloody face made stomach churning disgusting slush noise.

•"Let's see if my love would spare you a glance in your disgusting pathetic state."

•Kicking them in the stomach last time, getting a weak grunt from them, he turned to take the chocolate he put far away to keep it clean from getting any dirty on it but the box got smudged by the blood on his hands anyway.

•Clicking his tongue, he headed back to school to clean himself a bit(if he's been seen like this, it'd make pretty bad fuss all over school). Since everybody in class right now, he wouldn't have to worry about running into someone right?

•So he decided to pass by your class to atleast hoping a little peek of you but right when he was about to turn the corner in the way of your class, he saw someone outside, also you leaving the class while your other classmates all hurried to doorway peeking behind you.

•Hiding himself, leaning back to the wall while hugging the box of chocolates, he took a deep breath, listening attentively to the other two teenagers, plus some hushed bickers from your other classmates.

•"Oh, (Random name)!" you voice held a light cheerful tone within can be heard and as soon as Chigiri recalled who it might be, his heart dropped straight down to his guts. The name of the one he overheard about you having a crush on them.

•Peeking from the corner to take a clear look of the situation, it only made his already unstable mind even more ruined. You looking at your crush in awe as they held out a massive bouquet of your (favourite flower or snacks idc), your friends and classmates has been shipping you two, are cheering and congrulating to the new couples that almost every person has eyes and ears knew the power couple potential between you two.

•"From the first day that you transfered here and i laid my eyes on you," your so-called crush starts to open their heart, heat rose up to your cheeks when Chigiri felt himself unconsciously moving on his own, just a moment ago he was behind the wall and now straddling on top of the teenager.

•In a switch of second, your eyes slightly widened upon seeing the ex-football prodigy appearing in front of you so suddenly while tossing the box he was carrying something in his arms to the floor. Not just that... with bloody knuckles and splattered few drops of red on his face... landing merciless punch on the (random name).

•Who would have believed if someone with such slim and frail looking like him could use such strength, with each landed punch, his body shook with determination and his eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed almost inhuman.

•"Is that the Chigiri Hyoma?", "The one who used to play football?" playful teasing bickers turned into shocked even more louder when the students from other classmates burst out their classes cause of the sudden commotion. "Is that a fight?", "Break them out!"

"Chigiri Hyoma...?" you mumbled out while processing the flash of events, still shocked from the thing just happened in front of you. Boys were quick to take the red-haired boy away from the bloody mess he made in just few seconds, leaving (random name) struggled to get up and breathe but seems like Chigiri had already broke their nose.

"Yes! It's me! The one and only love of your life!" while desperately tried to break free from the other boys holding him back, he spoke out shamelessly, trying jump into you and engulf you into his warm embrace but you took a few steps back out of horrification.

With knotted eyebrows twitching in disgust, you glared at him with tint of hateful in your lovely eyes that sent pang to his little heart, made him realize what he had done and even stopped struggling against the hold. You kept on the threathening glare while crouching down to the teenager he was just beating, gently embracing their head.

"Are you okay?" you talk softly with the one on the floor whilst putting their head on your lap in support, one hand holding their hand, other hand caressing their face.

"What a cold-blooded monster..." you bluntly said straight to his face cruelly, entirely shattering his little fragile heart. He felt like he is losing another reason to live again yet the frustration inside him grew even more darker.

"T-trouble with b-breathing..." hatchy breath left the person you holding gently, you frowned at them. Your soft gaze benevolenced the one in your hold as looked up once again to meet with crimson pink eyes,

Maybe this time he'll let you act whatever you want but soon you'll learn to love him... even if means using force on you.

i put isagi on the (random name) space bcz i love him???

posted on my yandere chigiri x malereader fanfic as a Valentine's special chapter (on wattpad) as well.

first time trying to write scenaria? oneshot? style idk whatever is, it's not something fit for me write😭😭😭(i hate it sm)

I APOLOGIZE FOR WRITING CHIGIRI SO OUT OF CHARACTERR🙏🙏🙏

[cz19y]

Not sorry for the title

CARS ! [HCs]

Multiple × GN!Reader

[!] A.U. — Cat / Them as Cats ! . . . [ Part 2 ]

∆ Fluff, PLATONIC, NO ROMANCE, pet & owner dynamic, OOC[?], slight hint of injuries[reader, Chigi's part], mention of overworking, no cat breed description because I'm lacking in cat knowledge, grammar & spelling errors[? NOT proofed] I have no idea what um doing this is just a word vomit

FT.: Chigiri Hoyama, Niko Ikki, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro . . . . Check this post ! : [Cat!Isagi] — [Cat!Nagi] & [Cat!Nagi 2]

NOTE: um, I'm alive.

NOTE2: I got a little excited in Niko's part, guess my favorite guys !! So not obvious.. :3

[ starting . . . ]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

CHIGIRI would be very much the type of cat to stare at you and slowly push something off the table.

Does not care + sassy.

But if he broke something important, he'd feel bad and try to maintain distance from the things after the incident for a short period of time. Would let you scold him in that scenario.

Other than that… Threats you with breaking your important objects if you neglect him for too long[he won't break it but it's so he’ll get your attention]

Would be THE cleanest cat you’d ever seen. Grooms himself often, you don't have to worry if he has any tics or anything.

For that, Chigiri is a very handsome cat.

10/10 fur, soft fur, pretty feline eyes, in good shape, has a way with things..

Even though being clean, he forgets to clean after himself.

Balls of fur laying around the house.

Talking about fur; he doesn't let anyone touch him — at least anyone who isn't his owner and other cats he’s friendly to.

He was cautious of letting you touch him the first time you adopted him. Hissing and not hesitant to show his claws.

But after some while, Chigiri started to let you near him more often after gaining his trust.

Agile. You cannot catch that cat on your own and with a group of 5 people.

Purrs slightly when he gets a compliment of his speed.

Chigiri has his monthly check in with his leg, poor thing is used to it although seeming to dislike it.

He just accepts his fate and takes it.

If there's visits, Chigiri is not paying one ounce of attention to them.

Dodges everybody and sits prettily on your lap. Asking for the daily dose of affection before running off to some corner until the guests leave.

That thing is shameless when he wants to.

If you're overworking too much, he'd threaten you by pushing your mug off the table.

Distracts you to waste your energy, so you can get your rest.

I feel like he’s very subtle with affection sometimes. But stills make big moves of showing his endearment for you.

If ever having the scenario of gaining a lifetime injury that can disabilitate you — he'd be by your side in those dark times of distress.

.

SHY SHY SHY

Too timid for his own good — NIKO takes the longest to warm up to you.

Does NOT let anyone touch him. Even you had trouble with approaching the small black ball of fur.

Seems cautious of anyone who tries to pet him near his head. You're worried his fur will irritate his eyes, but he seems to prefer it like that.

He’s used to the fur covering 90% of his vision. But not used to you grabbing his face(gently) and smashing his little face, spilling words of how cute and beautiful his eyes are.

Guests? No Niko in sight for the next hours till they leave.

Where can you find him? In your bedroom, under your bed or near your manga shelfs he somehow seems fascinated with.

Adores plotting next to you and “watching” TV when you're playing some anime series. You doubt he understands a word they're saying but he seems transfixed on it anyways — so you just let him be.

Was weirdly quiet after the day you bawled your eyes out watching Banana Fish.

Rarely initiate some type of affection. But when it does happen, Niko is so cute. Just a tiny ball of black fur on your lap, purring under your touch.

Has a hushed purr. Cannot hear the feline almost all the time, but you can tell he is enjoying being pampered.

Loves being massaged and just being taken care of, just make sure to straighten his fur when you finish.

Fluffy tail.

Grooms quite often, you don't really have to worry about him being dirty or leaving a mess behind(different from chigi-)

Gets all awkward when you pamper him — doesn't know where to look at and just funbles around with his paws shyly.

Only lets you pet him, but Niko looks like he has mixed feelings about you muffling his fur.

The first time you tried to introduce Niko to other cats, it was a mess. It started out slow, but stuff got heated. Other cats are too intimidating for him. Being the youngest and one of the shyest are difficult in this situation.

After a lot of persuading, he finally found somewhat of a group he could be in. 5 other cats that was a weird combination but it worked.

You're proud of your little companion for becoming more and more bolder.

It’s supper on the spot when hunting a bug. Calculated and on aim, if missed, Niko knows it’s next move. It’s like a way of repaying for taking care of him.

Not a big fan of vet, quieter than usual but he doesn't make a fuss about it.

If he senses you're upset or in distress… he’s clueless. Bro has no experience in that at ALL.

But one can try, and he's in for making you feel at least slightly better. Why not give his best purrs while he allows himself to curl up next to your sulking form on bed? Flap his ears gently against your arm to tickle you a little? Rub his small ball of fur of a head on you as a green light to slip your worries out even if he can't do anything about it?

.

Protective baby.

So protective, safest kitty to be around.

KUNIGAMI is surprisingly calm and collected for a cat so damn big.

This feline is huge, almost like a dog. It’s a whole workout to just pick him up.

Loves walks, really does — or just overall being active in activities. Easily mistaken by a dog when he so excitedly wakes you up for the morning walk.

Specially muscular for a cat but it's not a surprise for his size. It’s hell if you want to guide him or when he just pops himself on top of you. It pretty much… crushes your lungs.

It doesn't take much to approach him — warming up to him is a different story. You have to be a good soul for him to acknowledge you. Good vibes and someone who surprises him in a way can already be accepted by him.

Social but on the quiet side. Will not complain if you put him in a room with other cats, and gets along pretty well.

He is MESSY. Balls of fur here and there, he can accidentally make some things fly off the corner and he won't even notice.

Feels bad for making you have to clean up, so he plays a role in taking care of the house when you're out.

Guard cat frfr.

A good boy — lot of energy too. Loves engaging with you. Type of cat to linger around where you go, not too far but not too close. Kunigami just.. there.

Has a lot of fur, it’s a miracle he’s so clean with so much fur.

Often intimidating, despite being friendly. Other cats are weary of his size. And Kunigami does know how to put up a fight — a big fight by the way. You learned that in the hard way when he encountered a blond cat with lashes and exotic eyes.

Indifferent about the vet, he just accepts it and gets over with him.

Protective. Did I mention that? Legit takes the role of protecting his home seriously. This includes his owner. If a guest looks too out of place or a stranger is pushing things on you, Kinigami’s hissing and glued to your side.

When you took him in, the previous person that was in charge of him mentioned his two other siblings in his litter. You assume that's where his protective nature comes from.

Kunigami isn't blind to not notice how you're not taking care of yourself. Be drained because of work or study, this cat is going to drag you aside so you can rest.

Gives his best to be of any help when your mental state isn't in the best shape. He really just hopes for the best for you.

Get’s annoyed when you give him an “insult”(affectionly).

Shower him with compliments and he’ll get awkward. Loves it, but he is just too lost to do anything.

Hang outs with the red-pinkish cat and other two cats are his favorite hang outs.

.

Sleeps 24/7 you bet he’s at the top of his life — he has never been so satisfied with this lifestyle, you bet NAGI prayed for this in his past life.

Gigantic, even bigger than Kunigami. Difference is; he doesn't do shit like Kunigami does.

But hey, don't judge him! He’s giving his best… and gives up(as if he cared in the first place).

Fur all over your house. In your clothes, couch, bed, everything. And he didn't even bother to clean up.

Definition of ball of fur, but add messy to the mixture.

The only effort you'd ever see him make is chase the sun on your floor to lay down and sleep.

Okay jokes aside; he is somehow active, just not often.

Nagi got one if not the best reflexes you’ll ever see in the body of a cat this huge and lazy. Good with limbs and manipulating whatever object that calls his attention enough.

Surprisingly good at running, you'd never guess it if it wasn't for a black cat that’s X3 smaller than him. It rarely happens, but you still have to keep an eye on them or else things might escalate.

Gives absolute no fuck to guests, if he wants your attention he will get it. But if he has a choice of where to be when guests are in, he’ll be buried in the best place on earth: your bed.

HATES vets. Hides and actively avoids you when the date comes. Good luck being able to drag him because he's heavy.

Bathing or grooming him is pretty easy, just tiring as heck for his size and how much fur he has

Looks like a wet rat when you bathe him.

Letting Nagi out in the wild is safe. You know he won’t go too far either, he just lingers and if he does go out; he always comes back somehow.

Nothing serious; he just surprised the living soul out of you when he came back with a rich purple cat trailing behind him.

Loves getting pets from you. If it’s from another someone that’s not special to him, he doesn't care then.

Purrs rather loudly, but it’s very muffled and low.

It's 9/10 chances you’ll wake up having difficulties breathing because the cat is either being your personal scarf or laying across your chest. He won't budge, so just try to flip over if you can.

Funny habit is that he’ll go for affection and then disappear, reappear, and repeat. He does like being alone after all.

Like the other cats on this list; bro actually has NO clue of what to do when you're down.

“It's so bothersome”… but he knows he can't be like this. Nagi comes to be a little more active, being to call your attention or just to get you to understand he's there.

Nagi actually has a clue of what is happening, he just has to be put in the right mind to get his gears running.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A/N: I was gonna make a small doddle for this one but I gave up X3 damn this has been sitting on my drafts for decades holy shit

[awkward-imaginations]

| Reunions and Rivalries |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 2659

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The familiar sound of Karasuno players shouting to each other filled the air as the Tokyo team approached. You walked next to Yaku, chatting casually, when suddenly two familiar figures came sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” Nishinoya shouted at the top of his lungs, while Sugawara waved enthusiastically from behind him. Before you could even react, Noya wrapped you in a tight hug, nearly knocking poor Yaku off his feet in the process.

“Noya! Suga-Chaaaan~!” you grinned, pulling Sugawara into the hug as well. Noya, now gripping your arm dramatically, suddenly shifted his expression to one of exaggerated misery.

“Y/N!” he whined, pushing you away just enough to meet your eyes, still holding onto your arm. “You have no idea how terrible school is without you. It’s been torture!”

You laughed, playfully pushing at Noya’s shoulder. "Oh, come on, Noya. It can't be that bad."

"It is that bad!" he insisted, throwing his head back in exaggerated despair. "Ever since you transferred, it's like the life has been sucked out of our classroom. I can't even focus on anything anymore!"

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head at Noya's antics. "I think you just miss having someone to cheat off of during tests."

Noya pouted, clutching his heart as if he’d been gravely wounded. "How could you say that?! I would never cheat! I just… I mean, maybe I miss having Y/N to help me out once in a while, but that's totally different!"

You smirked, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh, totally."

Nishinoya groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don’t understand! It’s like no one else gets me. The energy in class is so dull now, Y/N! I'm completely doomed."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, patting Noya on the head. "You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Not dramatic enough!" Noya cried, throwing his arms wide for emphasis. "It's been painful without you. Seriously, how do you survive at that new school? Do they at least let you sleep through class?"

You chuckled. "It’s not so bad, actually. I’ve made some new friends, and I still get plenty of sleep."

Noya looked betrayed, his eyes wide. "New friends? What, and you didn’t miss us at all?"

"Of course I missed you guys!" You reassured, smiling. "But you know, life moves on. Besides, we still get to play Guild Wars together."

„Yeah, nice raid yesterday,” Nishinoya exclaimed, fist bumping you.

Kuroo, watching the scene from a few steps away, furrowed his brow slightly. “So, she's close with the volleyball team at her old school too?” he asked casually, glancing over at Kenma.

“Hm?” Kenma blinked, only half-listening. “Obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Why? You jealous or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, his expression tightening for a moment. “What? No,” he replied, though his gaze drifted back to you, now laughing a bit too hard—at least from his perspective—at something Sugawara said. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

“You sure?” Kenma muttered, still not looking up. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Why would I be—”

His words trailed off as Daichi approached you, a calm but warm smile on his face. He greeted you with a firm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that spoke of years of friendship. “It’s been too long, Y/N,” Daichi said, his voice soft. “It’s a nice surprise you’re here.”

You smiled, your face lighting up. “It feels like ages.”

Kuroo watched the exchange, feeling his heart sink just a bit. Daichi’s hug wasn’t overly affectionate, but there was a sense of familiarity between you two that stirred envy in him. He tried to brush it off, forcing a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.

“The third years used to be in the same class as her brother since Kindergarten,” Kenma said quietly, as if reading Kuroo’s thoughts. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kuroo exhaled, rolling his eyes, though the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Great. Old friends,” he muttered, his smile feeling more and more strained.

Kenma smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding your feelings.”

"Wait… she has a brother?" Kuroo asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Kenma gave him a surprised look. "You didn’t know? Yeah, L/N Ryouta—he goes to Nekoma too."

Kuroo’s mind raced. "L/N Ryouta? I don’t think I’ve met him."

Kenma shook his head. "Probably not. You’re in the university prep class, and he’s in regular courses. Still, kind of strange she didn’t mention him during one of your study dates."

Kuroo’s lips tugged into a slight frown. "We’re studying, not chatting." The fact that you had a brother he didn’t know about made him feel a little out of the loop. He didn’t like it.

Kenma shrugged. "It makes sense she'd be close with them. They’ve been hanging out since she was little."

Kuroo watched you laugh with Daichi and Sugawara, Noya had left you to help Tanaka “protect” Shimizu. You clearly had a lot of history with these guys. The way they greeted you, how easily you fit into their circle—it was obvious you were used to attention from boys. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he was about to look away, you caught his eye and waved, your smile brightening. For a split second, you seemed to hesitate, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as if you hadn’t expected him to be watching. Kuroo smirked, feeling a little more at ease now.

Daichi, noticing your reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You turned back to Daichi, still smiling. "Oh, that’s Kuroo, Nekoma’s captain. You should probably go introduce yourself."

Daichi nodded, though his expression became a little more guarded. "Right. I’ll go say hi."

As Daichi walked over, Kuroo straightened up, masking his emotions behind his usual confident grin. Daichi extended his hand, his smile polite but strained. "Daichi Sawamura, captain of Karasuno."

Kuroo grasped Daichi’s hand, matching his too-firm grip with one of his own. "Tetsurou Kuroo. Captain of Nekoma."

Both captains forced smiles, but in the back of their minds, they had the same thought: I don’t like this guy.

“So… you’re not their manager?” Sugawara asked, giving you a playful nudge as he leaned against the wall next to you in the gym, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Nope,” you chuckled. "I’m just here for moral support.”

Sugawara laughed. “Then I can support you supporting. We've got a cracking new setter, so I'll probably be on the bench the whole time.”

There was an ease between you and Sugawara that came with familiarity. You caught up on everything—school, mutual friends, and volleyball, of course. Time slipped away as the two of you talked, oblivious to anything else happening on the court.

Except someone was paying attention.

From across the gym, Kuroo’s gaze flickered toward you more than once. He tried to brush it off, but the more you laughed with Sugawara, the harder it was to ignore the twist in his chest.

“Oi, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, not even looking at him as he noticed the subtle tension radiating off his captain. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo blinked, dragging his gaze back to the court just in time to see one of Karasuno's players miss a spike. “What do you mean? Nothing's up.”

Kenma sighed. “You’ve been staring over there for the last ten minutes. You’re distracted.”

“Distracted?” Kuroo scoffed, though his eyes flicked once again in your direction—watching as Sugawara leaned in to say something that made you laugh. Why does he get to make you laugh like that? Kuroo felt his jaw tighten. “I’m not distracted. Just… keeping an eye on the competition. You know, strategy.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Sugawara isn’t even playing.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You mean Suga-Chaaan~,” he mocked your greeting only to feign indifference afterwards. “I’m not watching him. Why would I care about some third year who isn’t even in starting lineup?”

Kenma looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Kuroo huffed. “As I already said, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

Kenma eyes flicked toward Sugawara, then back to Kuroo. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo added, a little too quickly. “I mean—”

“Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, his deadpan expression growing sharper.

“I—" Kuroo hesitated, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Kenma’s lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

Across the court, Sugawara was finishing a story, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. You laughed, leaning in a little closer. Kuroo’s eye twitched.

“It’s not like they’re flirting,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

“What was that?” Kenma asked, not bothering to look away from the ball on their side.

“Nothing!” Kuroo snapped, a little too loud, drawing some curious glances from nearby players.

You and Sugawara, still chatting, were blissfully unaware of Kuroo’s growing frustration. Every time Sugawara made you laugh, it felt like a small jab, not because he disliked Sugawara, but because… well, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Or at least, he wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

The match was in full swing, as Shimizu joined you and Sugawara at the side, observing as the teams went back and forth on the court. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Sugawara, catching up and making jokes, but now that Shimizu had joined you, the conversation was a bit more reserved.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Shimizu turned toward you. “You’re not their manager, yet you’re wearing their jersey,” she remarked softly, her eyes following the ball.

“Yeah, it actually belongs to Kenma, we're about the same size, thought it would boost the team spirit” you replied, smiling fondly.

Shimizu nodded thoughtfully, glancing between you and Kenma on the court. “He seems to enjoy your company.”

You blinked, catching the subtle implication in her tone. “Wait, do you mean…?” You hesitated, feeling a slight blush creep up your neck. “You think I like Kenma?”

Sugawara, who had been listening in with a bemused expression, chuckled under his breath. “Oh no, Shimizu,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way off.”

Shimizu tilted her head slightly, giving Sugawara a questioning look. “Really? I thought—”

Sugawara waved her off with a smile, clearly amused. “Trust me, I’ve known Y/N for a long time. She doesn’t go for the quiet, brooding type.”

You narrowed your eyes at Sugawara, half-embarrassed. “Hey, I can like quiet guys,” you defended, though it came out more as a weak protest than anything else.

Sugawara gave you a teasing smirk. “Maybe, but not that quiet.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Kenma’s great and all, but your type’s always been more… I don’t know, bad boy. The kind of guy who’s a little rough around the edges, gets under your skin.”

Shimizu blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Bad boy…?” she repeated thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted toward the court where Coach Ukai stood, arms crossed, observing the match with his intense focus. She nodded in his direction. “Ah. You mean someone like Ukai?”

You nearly choked, waving your hands in protest. “What? No way! He’s… hot, sure, but he’s way too old!”

Sugawara burst out laughing, and even Shimizu’s usually calm expression cracked into a smile.

“Nah, I wasn’t talking about Ukai,” Sugawara chuckled, nudging you playfully. “I had someone more… age-appropriate in mind.” He pointed subtly across the court to where Kuroo was setting up for a block, his sharp gaze focused on the game, his usual smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of that bad boy.”

You froze, suddenly feeling like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. “Kuroo?” You hadn’t even realized it, but the moment Sugawara mentioned it, something clicked inside you—like a light had been switched on.

Sugawara’s grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on your face. “There it is,” he said, his voice smug but not unkind. “Ryouta told me you just can’t shut up about him.”

You could feel the blush deepening, the heat spreading up to your cheeks. “I… I don’t…” you stammered, not quite sure how to deny it now that it was out in the open.

Shimizu watched you carefully, her quiet gaze perceptive. “So, it is Kuroo?” she asked softly, her voice neutral as ever, though there was a trace of curiosity.

You glanced at her, feeling a little trapped but knowing you couldn’t lie, especially not with Sugawara there, reading you like an open book. You sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine,” you muttered, embarrassed but kind of relieved to admit it. “Yeah… I think I like Kuroo.”

Sugawara looked like he’d just won a game. “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from the beginning.”

Shimizu gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful. “He does seem like someone you’d get along with,” she said quietly.

“Well…” you began slowly, a shy smile creeping onto your face, “he is pretty great. He’s been really nice to me, even when he’s annoying.”

Shimizu gave you a small, knowing smile.

Sugawara’s grin softened a bit, turning more genuine. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy.”

He chuckled. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

You groaned, half embarrassed but secretly hopeful. “Great, now I’m going to be overanalyzing everything he says to me.”

Sugawara laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s part of the fun. Just keep me updated.”

Later that night, the team piled into the bus, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the Nekoma players settled into their seats. You slid into a spot next to Kenma, Kuroo sitting in the row just ahead, his head tilted back against the seat.

As the bus started to roll down the road, you pulled out some flyers Sugawara had given you earlier and turned to Kenma and Kuroo. "Hey, by the way, Sugawara invited me to a festival nearby. His and my brother’s band, Secondhand Youth, is opening." You held out the flyer so they could see. "You guys listen to pop-punk, right?"

Kenma glanced up from his DS, raising an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Kuroo replied a little too quickly, "Sure!" His voice was overly enthusiastic, and his eyes darted to you for a reaction.

Kenma blinked, clearly unimpressed. He gave Kuroo a sideways look, stifling a smirk as he mimicked, "Sure." His tone was flat, dripping with sarcasm.

You snorted, trying to hide a laugh, but Kuroo shot Kenma a mock glare. “What? It’s not like I don’t listen to it.”

Kenma couldn’t resist. “Name one band.” He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kuroo with a blank stare, knowing full well his friend didn’t have a clue.

Kuroo paused, clearly stumped, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a band name. “Well, Secondhand Youth, obviously.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Kuroo turned to you, his expression a mix of mild panic and frustration.

"Okay, fine, maybe I’m not a huge fan," Kuroo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I’d still go. For the experience, you know?"

Kenma rolled his eyes but kept a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, the experience of pretending to like music you’ve never heard of.”

You nudged Kuroo’s seat playfully from behind, your smile softening. "You don’t have to, Kuroo. But… you’re welcome to come, if you want."

Kuroo’s eyes met yours, his expression softening as well. “Nah, I wanna go,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “Could be fun.”

Kenma returned to his game, though he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched you and Kuroo interact.

[patrophthia]

from the glue | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff, lovey dovey stuff, tom changes himself for reader, song fic, OOC tom (like super OOC), not beta read

wc: 1.1k

this is a request ! thank you for sending this in!! <3

tag: @tr4ppola

You like to believe in the good in people. You'd like to believe that no matter how bad a person seems to be, there's something in them that is truly good. You'd also like to think that there were bad even people who you might deem good. Which is probably why you think Tom and you worked together so well. 

You balance each other and made one another a better person in one way or the other. 

Tom taught you how to stand your ground and you taught him how to be (for the lack of a better word) more tolerable and less pessimistic. 

The longer you knew Tom the more you realised you'd never met someone like him. No matter how much you knew of him, he'd always find a way to surprise you whether it be good or bad. 

You never understood why he'd been so drawn to you after your first meeting. You were in class, so was he, when you'd accidentally bumped into him as you reached over to care for your plant. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he says, his tone unreadable. You glance up and meet him eye to eye and swore it flashed red for a split second before he sent a smile your way. "It happens to everyone." 

He was nice, which is what you'd notice the first time. In the second, you realised just how charming he was and how many of your classmates longed to be with him. He didn't care about them though, always turning them down when they slightly hinted that they were interested in him. 

So imagine your surprise when he'd asked you to be his partner on a project who you were sure he'd be fine doing on his own. You didn't read much into it, maybe he just wasn't as smart as you thought he was despite him being at the top of the class. 

A month later, your project turned in with an Outstanding as your final grade. Tom made excuses to keep on being by your side since then. It was as if you two were glued to the hips. 

You didn't understand why at first, but when he'd started telling you some of his secrets, you were quick to pick up on why he's been doing so. 

And to prove yourself right, you decided to ask him about it one evening after your study (not) date. You didn't like beating around the bush, neither did Tom. So you decided to jump straight in. "Do you like me?" 

He looked up and studied you for a second before he answered. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Okay. Maybe you should rephrase it. "Do you have feelings for me?" 

"Would I tell you about the basilisk if I didn't?"

You think about it for a second. It was weird that he'd tell you (who at the time had only known him for about a week) about a hidden basilisk underneath a castle that had been kept as a secret for you. You guess he just really likes you then. 

Throughout the next few months you managed to fall for his charms (and him yours). Somehow, he'd become your boyfriend along the lines of straightening out his wrongs. Your boyfriend was a bit of a fixer upper, so what? 

Of course you couldn't change everything completely about him, he still had his goals in life but most of it was diverted when you told him plain out that you'd never date someone who would willingly hurt a completely innocent person. 

So he took a different approach to it instead, he'd had one Horcrux when he'd first met you and vowed to never make any more. He finally found something that made him happy and he wasn't going to let it go to waste for something that hadn't made him half as satisfied. 

Last night you decided that it was best to destroy the Horcrux and Tom wholeheartedly agreed, mostly because he was willing to do whatever you asked him. 

Who knew destroying a Horcrux would hurt like a bitch? Certainly not Tom. He knew it'd take a toll on him, just not as much as it was as of right now. 

The only thing bringing him comfort as he recovered was you. He'd always thought he was averse to touch, but when it came to you he wanted nothing more than to glue himself onto you. 

Morning comes way too quickly for his liking, and even though he's woken up ten minutes earlier than you just so he could hold you for a bit longer. He wanted to stay here a bit longer, limbs tangled underneath his blanket, stuck onto you. 

You stir awake and he finds himself frowning, knowing that you'd have to get up and out the door in a few minutes. 

"Good morning," you say, smiling winsomely at him. 

His frowns deepen. He's going to miss you even more now. "Good morning." 

Your eyes flutter shut when he pressed a short kiss onto your forehead before opening up again, this time more alert and awake. "I have to go to work," you say first, trying to get out of his grip. "And you have to take the day off to recover." 

He listens to you, and he thinks to himself, asking. When did he start listening to a command from someone other than himself? And secondly, why is he listening to a command from someone much shorter than him? 

When he doesn't reply, you begin getting yourself ready for work. When you get back out, Tom's still in bed, wearing an uncharacteristic pout. "What?" 

"I think you're forgetting something." 

You double check your thing to find that everything's there and frown. "What do you mean?" 

"Doctor's order," he says. "You'll have to kiss me before you leave or else you'll miss me and I turn into an evil wizard while you're gone." 

You let out a loud sigh, failing to hide a smile at his childishness. You pressed a quick kiss on his lips, Tom grabbing a hold of your face in an attempt to deepen it only for you to pull back. "Work." 

"I'll be back soon okay?" You tell him. "I love you." 

He hesitates and you're not upset when he does so, you'd always been understanding so you know how he feels when it comes to love because, quite frankly. He never thought he would ever be in love. 

It was impossible for someone to love when they were conceived under the love potion, so he never bothered to seek out love. But you were special, and you were here now, with him. And so he loves you for it. So just before you leave, he tells you back what you'd heard the first time ever. "I love you too."

—from bee: fluffy tom 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i like my tom best when he’s OOC teehee, reblog/notes/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!! :]